MAKING  GOOD  WITH 
MARGARET 


Before   he   could   stop   her   she   was   riding  in  the 
opposite  direction.      (See  page  24.) 


MAKING  GOOD 
WITH  MARGARET 


BY 

E.  WARD   STRAYER 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

A.   O.   SCOTT 


COPYRIGHT,  1918,  BY 
GEORGE  SULLY  &  COMPANY 


All  rights  reserved 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  A  Matter  of  Business        ....  7 

II  Ross  Comes  to  a  Decision  .      .      .      .  17 

III  The  Railroad  Contract       ....  27 

IV  "It's  Make  or  Break!"  .      .      .      ...  37 

V  Awarding  the  Contract       .      ...  51 

VI  'Twixt  Business  and  Something  Else  .     62 

VII  O'Mara  Shows  His  Hand  ....     72 

VIII  Ross  and  His  Enemies       ....     87 

IX  A  Blow  in  the  Dark     .      .      .      .      -97 

X  Under  Arrest 113 

XI  Margaret  Makes  a  Move   .      .      .      .127 
XII  As  in  a  Dream 140 

XIII  In  Harness  Once  More       .      .      .      .152 

XIV  What  the  Doctor  Said 161 

v 

2138285 


vi  Contents 

CHAPTE*  PAGE 

XV  A  First  Victory       .      .      .      .      .      .171 

XVI  Looking  Up  a  List  Drill  .      .      .      .187 

XVII  Caught  in  the  Storm 194 

XVIII  An  Unexpected   Meeting    ....   205 
XIX  The  Rock  Drill       .      .      ......  218 

XX  Three  Against  One 225 

XXI  Dr.  Parmalee  Speaks 232 

XXII  A  Dastardly  Plot 244 

XXIII  Margaret's   Decision 251 

XXIV  With  Not  a  Moment  to  Spare  .      .      .  258 
XXV  Afterwards         263 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Before  he  could  stop  her  she  was  riding 
in    the    opposite    direction. 
(See  page  24.) Frontispiece 

FACING  PACK 

The  man  peered  down  on  the  unconscious  form. 

(See  page  113.) 114 

"Your  coming  has  made  me  feel  like  a  new  man." 

(See  page  151.) 150 

"Turn  the  switch!"  he  yelled  hoarsely  to  Cole.    262 


MAKING   GOOD  WITH 
MARGARET 


CHAPTER  I 
A  MATTER  OF  BUSINESS 

"TELEGRAM." 

"Who  for,  Son?" 

"Mr.  Ross  Goodwin,"  answered  the  telegraph 
messenger. 

"Hand  it  over." 

The  telegram  was  delivered  just  as  Ross  was 
packing  away  the  last  of  the  books  that  he  intended 
to  ship  to  Durham  by  express. 

College  days  were  truly  over,  for  even  Judson, 
the  senior  who  was  forever  late,  had  called  at  the 
rooms  to  say  farewell,  and  every  train  leaving  New 
Haven  was  packed  with  students  and  "grads." 

Ross'  last  days  at  Yale  had  been  of  such  a  char- 
acter as  to  upset  anybody.  First,  several  of  the  ex- 
aminations had  gone  wrong,  and  then  had  come 
the  news  that  his  uncle,  John  Goodwin,  had  met 
with  a  serious  accident  while  inspecting  some  blast- 
ing for  the  new  outlet  sewer  at  Jackson's  Point. 
Then  had  come  the  death  and  burial,  with  Ross  as 
chief  mourner,  and  on  top  of  that  the  commence- 

7 


8          Making  Good  With  Margaret 

ment,  which  blunt  John  Goodwin  had  insisted  he 
must  attend,  funeral  or  no  funeral. 

"It  won't  do  any  good  for  you  to  stand  around 
here  and  pine,"  John  Goodwin  had  said.  "I  sent 
you  to  Yale  to  get  an  education,  and  you  might  as 
well  finish  it  while  you  are  at  it." 

And  now  his  uncle  was  gone,  college  days  were 
at  an  end,  and  he  was  left  alone  in  the  world. 

Ross  had  been  working  in  an  abstracted  manner, 
with  his  thoughts  far  away,  and  for  the  moment  he 
stared  blankly  at  the  messenger  boy  and  took  the 
message  mechanically.  It  was  brief  and  to  the 
point,  and  interested  him  in  spite  of  himself. 

Stop  and  see  us  at  our  Philadelphia  offices  when 
on  your  way  home.  Important. 

GARTON  &  WELLINGTON. 

"Garton  &  Wellington?"  he  repeated,  slowly. 
"Oh,  yes;  they  were  Uncle  John's  lawyers.  Um." 

"Any  answer?  Please  sign  here,"  came  from 
the  boy. 

"No — yes,"  was  the  answer,  and  signing  the 
book,  Ross  wrote  out  his  reply,  saying  he  would 
be  on  the  next  morning. 

The  boy  gone,  the  young  college  graduate  re- 
sumed his  packing.  He  could  guess  what  the  law- 


A  Matter  of  Business  9 

yers  wanted  to  see  him  about.  He  and  his  uncle 
had  been  practically  alone  in  the  world.  He  knew 
that  good,  honest-hearted  Uncle  John  had  left  him 
the  bulk  of  his  property. 

The  two  had  never  had  any  differences.  It  was 
Uncle  John  who  had  made  the  college  course  pos- 
sible. The  man  had  been  worth  all  of  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars,  maybe  a  great  deal  more,  so  the  pros- 
pect was  certainly  a  pleasing  one. 

"Good  man!"  murmured  Ross.  "What  a  pity 
he  couldn't  have  lived  to  enjoy  the  money  himself." 

For  Uncle  John  Goodwin  had  been  a  hard 
worker,  there  was  no  denying  that.  With  but  a 
limited  education,  he  had  worked  his  way  up  step 
by  step,  taking  small  contracts  at  first  and  then 
those  which  were  larger,  until,  in  that  section  of  the 
State,  he  was  looked  at  as  a  business  man  of  con- 
siderable importance. 

He  had  built  the  dam  at  Highland  Lake,  the 
water  line  running  to  Durham,  the  joint  sewer  at 
Livermore  and  Hensey,  and  the  railroad  line  from 
Lapp's  Junction  to  Fenwick — the  latter  a  bit  of 
work  that  more  than  one  contractor  had  declared 
could  not  be  accomplished. 

The  Jackson's  Point  outlet  sewer  had  been  all  but 
completed  when  that  fatal  blast  came  that  cost  him 
his  life.  He  had  been  much  liked  by  his  men,  and 


10        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

the  funeral  had  been  a  large  one,  with  even  the 
"Dagoes"  and  Poles  in  line  at  the  end.  He  had 
not  known  their  names,  only  their  numbers;  but 
they  had  known  him,  and  more  than  one  tear  was 
dropped  from  a  tanned  and  dirt-hardened  cheek 
when  "Boss  Yon"  was  put  under  ground. 

Ross  wondered  what  would  become  of  the  con- 
tracting business  now.  He  had  entered  Yale  with 
no  more  definite  purpose  than  to  get  a  thorough 
education. 

Some  of  his  friends  were  going  in  for  law,  some 
for  medicine,  one  wanted  to  become  the  editor  of  a 
metropolitan  newspaper,  and  another  had  signified 
his  intention  of  taking  up  ancient  and  modern  his- 
tory with  a  view  of  filling  some  chair  when  the 
opportunity  offered.  None  of  these  had  appealed 
to  Ross. 

"Guess  I'll  have  to  try  ranch  life,"  Ross  had 
said,  when  appealed  to  by  his  chums.  "I  like  a  life 
in  the  open.  If  I  had  a  pot  of  money  I'd  travel 
around  the  world." 

"Well,  all  of  us  might  do  worse,"  Finley  had 
answered,  dryly.  "But  as  the  pots  of  money  are 
not  within  reach " 

"Going  to  follow  in  your  uncle's  footsteps?"  an- 
other had  asked. 

"I  don't  know.    To  tell  the  truth,  I  don't  feel  as 


A  Matter  of  Business  11 

if  I'm  cut  out  for  anything  just  now."  And  then 
the  conversation  took  a  new  channel. 

The  books  packed  away,  only  one  other  thing 
remained  on  the  shelf  over  the  table  at  which  Ross 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  studying.  That  was  the 
photograph  of  a  girl  of  twenty,  with  a  round,  sweet 
face,  clear,  frank  eyes,  and  a  mass  of  dark,  curly 
hair.  The  eyes  seemed  to  gaze  directly  into  Ross' 
own,  and  he  could  scarcely  take  his  gaze  from  them. 

"Dear,  dear  Margy,"  he  murmured.  "I  wonder 
if  I'll  ever  be  able  to  make  good  with  you."  He 
looked  fondly  at  the  photograph  for  a  minute 
longer,  and  then  placed  it  in  his  breast  pocket. 

On  the  way  to  New  York  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, Ross  had  two  of  the  professors  for  company. 
They  were  not  very  talkative,  yet  he  was  glad  when 
the  Grand  Central  Terminal  was  reached  and  he 
parted  company  with  them. 

"Well,  what  do  you  expect  to  do  in  the  future?" 
questioned  one  of  the  professors  while  shaking 
hands. 

"I  don't  know  yet,"  was  Ross'  reply.  "I'm 
very  much  up  in  the  air." 

At  the  terminal  he  hailed  a  taxicab,  and  was 
driven  to  the  Pennsylvania  Station.  Here  he 
boarded  the  Philadelphia  Limited.  He  looked 
around  the  parlor  car  in  which  he  had  obtained  his 


12        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

seat,  but  saw  no  face  which  was  familiar  to  him. 
For  this  he  was  not  sorry,  for  it  gave  him  time  to 
review  the  situation,  even  though  he  was  not  able 
to  reach  any  satisfactory  conclusion. 

Arriving  in  the  Quaker  City  he  soon  made  his 
way  to  the  offices  of  Carton  &  Wellington.  By 
presenting  his  card  he  was  immediately  ushered  into 
Mr.  Carton's  private  office.  The  lawyer  was  an 
elderly  man ;  shrewd,  but  pleasant. 

"Happy  to  see  you,  Mr.  Goodwin,"  he  said.  "Sit 
down.  I'll  be  at  liberty  in  just  a  few  moments." 

And  as  Ross  took  a  chair  he  continued  the  read- 
ing of  a  long,  legal  document.  This  finished,  he 
pushed  a  button,  a  clerk  appeared,  and  the  document 
was  sent  away. 

"I  presume  you  got  my  telegram,"  began  Ross. 

"Exactly,  Mr.  Goodwin;  and  I  presume  you 
know  why  we  sent  ours.  We  were  your  late  uncle's 
legal  advisers  for  many  years — he  employed  no 
other  counsel.  His  will  was  drawn  up  by  us,  and 
that  is  the  matter  to  be  brought  up  now.  With  the 
exception  of  several  small  amounts  left  to  his  house- 
keeper and  to  his  foreman  and  others,  you  are  his 
sole  heir." 

"It  was  very  good  of  Uncle  John  to  make  me 
that,"  said  Ross,  feeling  that  he  must  say  something. 

"It  was  to  be  expected,  since  you  were  his  nearest 
and  dearest  relative,  and  his  ward  since  the  death 


A  Matter  of  Business  13 

of  your  parents.  Roughly  speaking,  the  value  of 
the  property  left  you  is  between  seventy-five  and 
one  hundred  thousand  dollars.  A  portion  of  this  is 
tied  up  by  a  bond  given  to  guarantee  the  completion 
of  the  work  on  the  Jackson's  Point  outlet  sewer. 
But  I  am  assured  by  Lawrence  Cole,  his, foreman, 
that  this  work  is  about  done,  and  in  first-class  shape, 
so  this  money  will  soon  be  released." 

Ross  bowed,  for  there  seemed  to  be  nothing  to 
say: 

"Your  uncle  was  a  hard-working  man,  and  took 
great  pride  in  his  business,"  went  on  the  lawyer. 
"He  hated  to  think  that  some  day  that  business 
might  fall  to  decay.  He  left  a  letter  on  the  subject 
for  you.  Here  it  is.  I  think  it  will  be  worth  your 
while  to  read  it  carefully." 

The  communication,  in  a  thick,  sealed  envelope, 
was  handed  to  Ross,  and  Mr.  Garton  excused  him- 
self for  a  short  while. 

With  deep  interest  the  young  man  broke  open  the 
envelope,  and  read  the  letter,  which  was  in  his 
uncle's  crude,  heavy  hand  and  almost  as  brief  as  was 
anything  John  Goodwin  had  felt  himself  compelled 
to  write. 

MY  DEAR  Ross:  The  doctor  says  I  can't  last 
much  longer,  so,  in  case  I  don't  pull  through,  I'll 
leave  this  for  you.  By  my  will  you'll  see  that  I 


14        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

have  left  you  most  everything,  and  I  think  you  de- 
serve it,  for  you  have  always  been  a  good  boy. 

What  I  want  to  let  you  know  in  particular  is 
this :  You  know  I  think  a  whole  lot  of  the  contract- 
ing business.  I've  slaved  day  in  and  day  out  to 
make  it  a  big  business.  I  don't  want  to  influence 
you  too  much,  for  a  fellow  can't  be  a  preacher  if 
he  isn't  cut  out  for  it,  but  I  hate  very  much  to  see 
the  business  go  to  pieces,  and  hate  worse  still  to  see 
the  contracts  go  to  Mike  Breen  or  to  Ike  Shacker, 
both  having  done  their  best  to  down  me  of  late  years 
and  ruin  me. 

If  you  continue  the  contract  business,  beware  of 
both  Breen  and  Shacker,  for  they  are  foxy.  I  think 
you  can  trust  Larry  Cole,  my  foreman,  for  I  always 
found  him  square.  O'Mara  is  a  pretty  good  man, 
too,  although  I  don't  know  so  much  about  him  as  I 
do  about  Cole.  The  Rocky  Hill  Railroad  is  going 
to  give  out  a  fine  contract  soon,  and  I  know  Breen 
and  Shacker  will  do  their  best  to  get  it,  and  if  they 
think  I'm  out  of  it  they'll  put  in  big  figures,  too. 
I'd  like  to  see  you  go  in  and  win  from  them. 

But  have  your  own  way.  The  money  is  yours  to 
do  with  as  you  please,  and  I'd  rather  see  you  not 
take  a  contract  than  take  it  and  then  fall  down  on 
the  job. 

Your  loving  uncle, 

JOHN  GOODWIN. 


A  Matter  of  Business  15 

Ross  had  time  to  read  this  communication  twice 
before  the  lawyer  returned.  His  face  grew  thought- 
ful and  tender  as  he  thought  of  his  uncle  and  of 
how  John  Goodwin  had  struggled  to  rise.  And  all 
that  money  was  now  his  own,  to  do  with  as  he 
pleased. 

"Of  course  you  know  the  contents  of  this  letter, 
Mr.  Garton?"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Exactly,  Mr.  Goodwin — your  late  uncle  spoke 
of  it  when  he  passed  it  over — on  the  same  day  he 
had  me  call  to  make  sure  that  his  will  was  safe." 

"He  was  anxious  to  have  me  take  up  his  busi- 
ness just  where  he  left  off." 

"He  was  very  anxious  to  have  the  business  go  on, 
yes.  But  he  was  afraid  you  wouldn't  take  to  the 
idea,  being  a  college  man.  Had  a  notion  you  would 
want  to  go  into  law  or  some  other  profession." 

"But  he  wanted  me  to  take  up  the  business?" 
Ross  insisted. 

"Well,  that  is  what  it  amounted  to.  But  you 
were  to  make  your  own  choice." 

"And  in  case  I  did  go  in,  did  he  leave  any  other 
directions?" 

"He  left  several  special  account  books,  sealed  up. 
If  you  gave  up  the  business  the  account  books  were 
to  be  burned  up  without  being  opened." 

"Otherwise  I  was  to  have  them?" 

"Exactly." 


16        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

Ross  drew  a  long  breath,  and  resting  his  elbow 
on  the  desk  sank  his  chin  in  his  palm.  His  eyes  had 
a  far-away  look,  but  he  was  not  thinking  of  the 
sealed-up  account  books.  His  mind  had  drifted 
to  the  original  of  the  photograph  in  his  breast 
pocket. 

"Of  course,  you  haven't  got  to  decide  this  at 
once,"  went  on  Mr.  Garton.  "Take  your  own  time 
and  think  it  over." 

"I'll  think  it  over  this  week,"  was  the  answer. 
"And  I'll  reach  some  sort  of  a  decision  by  next 
Monday." 


CHAPTER  II 

ROSS  COMES  TO  A  DECISION 

IF  Ross  had  been  thoughtful  on  his  way  to  Phila- 
delphia, he  was  doubly  so  as  his  train  sped  westward 
over  the  hills  and  through  the  mountains  in  the  di- 
rection of  Durham. 

"She'll  be  surprised,"  he  murmured  to  him- 
self, more  than  once.  "She  can't  help  but  be  sur- 
prised. But  when  I  put  the  matter  to  her  in  the 

proper  light "  And  here  he  dropped  into  a 

vague  speculation  of  just  what  Margaret  Poole 
would  say. 

They  had  been  friends  for  many  years,  ever  since 
he  had  paid  his  Uncle  John  visits  when  a  boy,  and 
the  friendship  had  become  a  very  close  one  after 
his  parents  had  passed  away  and  he  took  up  his 
residence  in  Durham.  Margaret  and  her  widowed 
mother  lived  on  the  valley  road,  and  his  uncle's 
place  was  not  half  a  mile  away. 

"She's  a  fine  bird,  Ross,"  his  uncle  had  said  one 
day.  "But  she's  bound  to  fly  high,  you  can  see 
that.  Don't  you  go  to  getting  false  notions  in  your 
head  about  her." 

But  this  had  not  stopped  his  visits  to  her,  and, 
17 


18        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

almost  unconsciously,  Margaret  Poole  had  become 
more  to  the  young  collegian  than  he  was  willing 
to  admit. 

While  he  was  at  Yale,  she  had  attended  Wellesley 
College  and  had  taken  special  lessons  in  singing. 
More  than  once  she  had  sung  in  local  concerts,  and 
it  was  rumored  that  she  had  offers  to  go  with  a 
touring  concert  company,  and  that  one  manager 
had  offered  to  place  her  in  an  opera  company.  But 
she  would  not  leave  her  parent  and  besides,  her 
mother,  who  was  of  old  Puritan  stock,  did  not 
approve  of  the  publicity. 

Ross  knew  that  Margaret  took  a  great  interest 
in  his  welfare.  More  than  once  they  had  spoken 
of  his  future,  and  in  a  half-playful,  half-serious 
manner,  she  had  painted  fancy  sketches  of  him  as 
a  great  lawyer,  or  a  doctor,  or  holding  a  valued 
chair  in  some  large  college.  He  knew  that  she 
wanted  him  to  make  something  of  himself  and  do  it 
in  a  professional  way. 

It  was  dark  when  he  reached  Durham,  and  only 
a  few  lanterns  and  lamps  lit  up  the  scene  around 
the  station. 

Jerry,  the  Goodwin  man  of  all  work,  was  at  hand 
with  the  automobile,  and  welcomed  him  warmly. 
But  the  drive  to  the  house  was  a  silent  one,  and 
the  housekeeper  was  not  surprised  when  he  told  her 


Ross  Comes  to  a  Decision  19 

that  he  had  dined  on  the  train,  and  did  not  want  the 
hot  supper  she  had  prepared. 

"Can't  git  over  the  loss  of  his  uncle,"  she  said  to 
the  man  of  all  work.  "An'  I  can't  blame  him — such 
a  good  soul  as  Mr.  Goodwin  was." 

"Mr.  Ross  is  a  good  soul,  too,"  answered  Jerry. 
"But  he  ain't  the  business  man  his  uncle  was. 
Reckon  that  contractin'  ain't  a-goin'  on  like  it  did 
no  more." 

"No,  'tain't  likely  'twill,"  answered  Mrs.  Blake. 
"But  you  can't  blame  Mr.  Ross.  He's  a  collige  man, 
an'  his  uncle  wasn't  that.  Collige  men  ain't  cut  out 
fer  no  work  on  sewers  an'  railroads." 

"I  see  Larry  Cole  to-day,"  went  on  the  man  of 
all  work.  "He's  anxious  to  know  what's  goin'  to 
be  did.  That  outlet  sewer  work  comes  to  an  end 
soon,  an'  then,  unless  the  business  keeps  on,  he'll 
be  out  of  a  job." 

"A  likely  man  like  him  needn't  be  out  o'  work 
long.  He  was  Mr.  Goodwin's  right-hand  man,  an' 
always  was."  And  then  Mrs.  Blake  brought  the 
conversation  to  a  close  by  beginning  to  remove  the 
untouched  supper. 

It  was  not  until  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  that 
Ross  summoned  up  sufficient  courage  to  pay  the 
proposed  visit  to  Margaret.  Any  other  time  he 
would  have  gone  over  at  eight  on  horseback  and  in- 


20        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

vited  her  to  ride  with  him,  for  despite  the  use  of 
automobiles  both  loved  horseback  riding. 

He  met  her  on  the  road,  sitting  her  nut-brown 
steed  with  that  grace  which  he  had  so  often  ad- 
mired. She  looked  the  picture  of  health  and  loveli- 
ness, and  he  caught  his  breath  as  he  drew  close  to 
her. 

"I  was  going  to  ride  past,  to  find  out  if  you  had 
arrived,"  she  said,  frankly,  as  she  shook  hands. 

"I  came  in  last  night,  Margy;  bag  and  baggage, 
books  and  all.  College  is  now  truly  a  thing  of  the 
past." 

"And  Sir  Ross  hath  the  whole  world  before 
him!"  she  returned,  grandiloquently.  "What  a 
pleasure  it  must  be,  Ross,  to  think  you're  not  to  be 
tied  down  to  just  one  thing,  but  can  choose  your 
future  for  yourself.  I  was  thinking  of  it  last  night." 

He  flushed — it  was  so  nice  to  have  her  think  of 
him.  But  almost  immediately  he  breathed  a  little 
sigh. 

"I  don't  know  as  I've  got  the  whole  world  before 
me,  Margy." 

"Oh,  yes;  you  have.  I've  heard  it  all.  Nearly 
every  dollar  of  your  uncle's  money  went  to  you, 
which  was  perfectly  right.  Now,  you'll  have  every 
opportunity  in  the  world  of  becoming  just  anything 
that  you  wish.  It's  grand!  and  I'm  so  glad,  for 


Ross  Comes  to  a  Decision  21 

your  sake/7  And  her  face  beamed  with  honest 
gratification. 

"Yes,  Uncle  John  treated  me  handsomely.  And 
that  is  just  where  it  comes  in,  Margy." 

"It?     What?"  she  questioned,  quickly. 

"I  don't  feel  that  I  can  do  as  I'd  like  to — or,  I 
mean,  just  as  I  thought  I'd  like  to  before  this — 
this — before  he  was  taken  away." 

"I  don't  understand,  Ross."  She  wheeled  her 
horse,  and  both  rode  slowly  down  a  side  road  under 
the  willows  bordering  the  creek.  This  path  was 
but  little  used,  and  here  they  would  be  safe  from 
interruption. 

"It's  this  way,  Margy,"  he  plunged  in,  very 
much  like  one  taking  an  open-air  bath  in  winter. 
"Uncle  John  sent  me  to  college,  and  said  I  could 
make  of  myself  anything  I  pleased.  But  when  he 
did  that  he  didn't  expect  to  be  taken  away  so  sud- 
denly. Just  before  he  died  he  wrote  a  letter,  telling 
me  of  his  work,  and  of  his  contracts,  and  of  how 
other  contractors  had  tried  to  get  in  on  him,  and  of 
how  he  hated  to  see  the  business  go  to  pieces,  after 
he  had  worked  so  hard  to  build  it  up.  He 
wanted " 

"You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  he  wanted  you  to 
continue  the  business?"  she  interrupted,  with  wide- 
open  eyes. 


22        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"He  didn't  put  it  in  so  many  words,  but  that  was 
the  one  desire  of  his  heart." 

"Why,  it's  ridiculous,  Ross !  The  idea  of  you  be- 
ing a  contractor,  and  building  sewers  and  such 
things!" 

"Perhaps  I  wouldn't  be  equal  to  it,  Margy,  but  I 
could  try " 

"Oh,  you  don't  understand!  You  weren't  cut 
out  for  such  low  work.  You  must  be  a  lawyer,  or 
a  doctor,  or  professor,  or  something  like  that.  It's 
the  only  thing  that  will  really  fit  you."  She  gazed 
at  him  half  proudly  as  she  uttered  the  words. 

"It's  not  low  work,"  he  returned,  half  irritatedly. 
"To  build  a  first-class  sewer,  or  water  line,  or  rail- 
road, is  a  skillful  feat  of  engineering.  Uncle  John 
was  a  smart  man,  in  his  field." 

"Yes,  but  that  isn't  your  field.  Fancy  you  in  a 
trench  giving  directions  to  a  lot  of  those  dirty 
Italians,  with  yourself  all  covered  with  mud!  Oh, 
Ross,  you  know  you  can't  do  it!" 

"You  paint  the  worst  side  of  the  picture,  Margy. 
I  wouldn't  have  to  do  much  trench  work.  I  could 
leave  that  to  Larry  Cole.  But,  of  course,  I'd  go 
down  to  the  very  bottom  of  the  trench  if  it  was 
necessary.  In  fact,  I'd  do  anything  rather  than  fail, 
after  I  had  once  taken  hold." 

"So  you  are  really  going  to  do  it?"     Her  face 


Ross  Comes  to  a  Decision  23 

took  on  something  of  a  shocked  look.  "To  put 
yourself  on  a  level  with  that  ignorant  Irishman, 
Mike  Breen,  and  that  intolerable  skinflint  of  a 
Shacker?" 

"No,  I'll  never  put  myself  on  a  level  with  those 
men.  I'll  do  honest,  upright  work,  as  my  Uncle 
John  did.  And  I'll  come  out  on  top,  too,"  he  added, 
with  a  sudden  inspiration.  "I  owe  it  to  the  memory 
of  Uncle  John  to  do  my  level  best  and  knock  out 
Breen  and  Shacker." 

"Then  it's  all  decided?  I  don't  see  why  you 
came  to  me  about  it."  She  straightened  in  the 
saddle.  "But,  of  course,  you  have  a  right  to  do  as 
you  please."  She  gave  a  slight  upward  tilt  to  her 
head.  "I  think  I'll  go  back." 

"Margy!" 

"Yes,  I  think  I'll  go  back.  I've  got  several  new 
songs  which  I  wish  to  practise  for  the  concert  next 
week." 

She  was  speaking  without  looking  at  him. 

"Yes,  but  listen  to  me " 

"All  the  nicest  people  will  be  there.  Doctor 
Moore  and  his  wife,  and  Judge  Lathrop,  and  Mr. 
Cambian,  the  lawyer,  and  that  new  professor  of 
literature  from  the  preparatory  school,  and  I 
shouldn't  wish  to  make  a  miss  of  it  before  such  a 
distinguished  audience." 


Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"I  don't  suppose  you  expect  any  railroad  con- 
tractors there?"  he  flashed  back,  bitterly. 

"I  don't  think  they'd  appreciate  an  operatic  con- 
cert; do  you?"  she  retorted. 

"They  might,  if  the  singing  was  really  good. 
They  know  the  value  of  honest  work,  and  they 
wouldn't  stand  for  anything  in  the  way  of  a  pre- 
tense." 

"Thank  you  for  the  compliment."  Her  head  went 
higher  than  before.  "I  must  really  go  after  that. 
Good-morning." 

Like  a  flash  she  turned  her  horse's  head,  and 
before  he  could  stop  her  she  was  riding  in  the  direc- 
tion whence  they  had  come.  He  went  after  her  a 
few  rods,  then  slackened  the  pace  of  his  steed.  His 
heart  dropped  like  a  lump  of  lead,  but  a  grim  smile 
played  around  his  tightly  closed  lips. 

"I  was  afraid  she'd  look  at  it  in  that  light."  He 
spoke  half  aloud,  as  if  arguing  with  a  companion. 
"But  it  wasn't  fair!  To  her  there  is  no  dignity  in 
laboring  with  one's  hands.  But  I'll  show  her  her 

mistake!  She'll  find  out  Oh,  why  can't  she 

look  at  it  as  I  do !"  And  he  ground  his  teeth  in  use- 
less heartburning. 

But  that  brief  talk  had  decided  him.  He  would 
take  up  the  work,  be  the  consequence  what  it  might. 
He  would  show  the  whole  world,  and  Margaret, 


Ross  Comes  to  a  Decision  25 

too,  that  a  man  could  labor  and  still  be  a  gentleman. 
And  he  would  show  them,  too,  that  his  years  at  col- 
lege had  not  been  wasted  years. 

He  would  take  hold  the  very  next  day,  and 
finish  that  outlet  sewer  contract  just  as  his  Uncle 
John  had  expected  to  do  before  him.  He  was  glad 
there  was  work  to  do,  and  he  hoped  it  would  re- 
quire all  of  his  attention — for  then  it  would  help 
him  to  forget  the  girl  who  had  just  snubbed  him. 

"But  it  wasn't  fair  of  Margy  to  talk  that  way," 
he  reasoned  to  himself.  "It  wasn't  fair — and  it 
wasn't  what  I  expected." 

He  plunged  into  the  work  sooner  than  expected. 
On  arriving  at  home  he  found  his  uncle's  foreman, 
Larry  Cole,  awaiting  him. 

Cole  was  a  man  of  forty,  tall  and  sinewy,  with 
black  eyes  that  seemed  to  read  one  through  and 
through.  He  had  very  little  book  education,  but  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  men,  and  had  worked  with 
John  Goodwin  for  six  years  and  more. 

"Glad  to  see  you,  Cole,"  said  Ross,  shaking  hands. 
"I  was  coming  down  to  the  work  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." 

The  foreman  nodded.  "We  need  you,"  he  an- 
swered. "That  is,  somebody  has  got  to  say  what's 
to  be  done.  That  lawyer  in  Philadelphia  wrote  he'd 
give  word  next  week,  but  that's  too  late." 


26        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"He  was  waiting  to  hear  from  me,  Cole."  Ross 
paused  for  a  moment.  "I  suppose  you  know  exactly 
what  ought  to  be  done?" 

"If  I  didn't  your  uncle  wouldn't  have  placed  me 
in  charge." 

"I  believe  that.  Well,  go  ahead  as  you  think 
best,  and  it  will  be  all  right." 

The  foreman  looked  relieved,  and  something  like 
a  smile  showed  on  his  wrinkled,  leathery  face. 

"Then  you  are  going  to  take  hold?" 

"I  am,  at  least  for  the  present." 

"Oh !  You  mean  until  this  job  at  Jackson's  Point 
is  done." 

"No,  I  don't.  I  am  going  to  take  other  contracts 
— if  I  can  get  them.  That  is  why  I  was  coming 
down  to-morrow.  I've  heard  something  of  a  rail- 
road contract  that  is  floating  around  Cressing.  Do 
you  know  anything  about  it?" 

"I  know  all  about  it." 

"Then  give  me  the  particulars." 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  RAILROAD  CONTRACT. 

IN  less  than  an  hour  Ross  had  the  particulars  of 
the  railroad  contract  so  far  as  Cole  knew  them.  The 
foreman  had  been  shrewd  enough  to  learn  many 
details,  but  there  were,  of  course,  others  at  which  he 
could  only  guess. 

Briefly  stated,  the  Rocky  Hill  Railroad  wanted  to 
build  a  side  line  from  Durham  to  Cressing,  a  dis- 
tance of  ten  miles.  The  main  line  passed  through 
Durham,  and  Cressing  was  an  important  point  on 
the  Cedar  Lake  division.  The  railroad  had  wanted 
this  side  line  for  many  years,  but  the  old  manage- 
ment had  hesitated  about  spending  the  necessary 
money.  The  railroad  was  now  under  new  manage- 
ment, and  the  improvement  was  to  be  made  as  soon 
as  possible. 

Cole  had  driven  over  the  route  half  a  dozen  times, 
and  knew  every  foot  of  the  ground. 

The  line  had  been  staked  out  by  the  engineers, 
and  he  had  seen  the  blueprints  of  the  maps.  There 
were  two  hills  to  be  cut  away  and  a  rocky  cliff  to 
be  blasted  out.  The  dirt  from  one  of  the  hills  was 
to  be  hauled  to  a  pond  two  miles  away,  also  on  the 
line  of  the  road,  and  some  grading  was  to  be  done  at 

27 


28         Making  Good  With  Margaret 

Black  Rock  Creek,  over  which  the  railroad  intended 
to  put  a  fine  bridge. 

"We  won't  have  anything  to  do  with  the  bridge," 
said  the  foreman.  "That  contract  has  already  been 
given  to  the  Pittsburgh  Bridge  Company.  And  we 
won't  have  anything  to  do  with  putting  down  the 
track.  All  they  want  of  the  outside  contractor  is 
to  bring  the  roadbed  to  a  grade,  according  to  the 
plans  and  specifications." 

"Who  will  do  the  track  laying?" 

"The  regular  railroad  gang.  You  see  they  can't 
do  the  grading,  because  they  are  working  elsewhere 
at  present." 

"I  suppose  this  Mike  Breen  and  Ike  Shacker  are 
after  the  contract?" 

"Yes.  I  heard  Breen  put  in  his  bid  yesterday. 
Shacker  put  in  his  bid  last  week." 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  the  figures?" 

Cole  shook  his  head.  "I  wanted  to  get  'em,  but 
they  were  as  mum  as  oysters." 

"Well,  you  can't  blame  them  for  that.  If  we  put 
in  a  figure  we'll  keep  mum,  too." 

"That's  right." 

"How  long  before  the  time  for  putting  in  bids 
comes  to  an  end?" 

"A  week  from  to-day.  You  see,  the  thing  has 
been  out  almost  a  month  already." 


The  Railroad  Contract  29 

"Then  we'll  have  to  get  at  it  right  away,  Cole. 
You've  got  to  be  my  right-hand  man  in  this,  just 
as  you've  been  my  uncle's  right-hand  man.  I  shall 
depend  upon  you." 

Ross  had  read  the  man  before  him  aright.  Cole 
was  honest  to  the  core,  and  he  wanted  others  to  ap- 
preciate that  honesty.  His  black  eyes  showed  pleas- 
ure, and  he  impulsively  placed  a  hand  on  the  young 
college  man's  shoulder. 

"It's  a  go,  Mr.  Goodwin,"  he  answered.  "Give 
me  the  chance  to  go  ahead,  and  I'll  stick  by  you 
through  thick  and  thin.  You  see" — his  voice 
dropped  a  little — "John  wanted  me  to  do  it — if  you 
continued  the  business." 

Ross  caught  the  brawny  hand,  and  gave  it  a 
tight  squeeze. 

"Then  that  is  settled,  and  I  am  glad  of  it.  I 
don't  hesitate  to  admit  to  you  that  I  am  as  green  as 
they  make  'em  in  this.  Of  course,  I  know  some- 
thing, but  lately  I've  given  all  my  attention  to  my 
college  work." 

"They  tell  me  you  passed  with  flying  colors." 

"I  came  out  pretty  well,  considering  the  trouble 
I  had  at  the  start  of  the  examinations." 

"Didn't  expect  to  take  up  this  work  so  quick, 
did  you?" 

"No.    But  I'm  going  to  take  it  up  for  my  uncle's 


30        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

sake,  and  knock  out  Breen  and  Shacker,  if  I  can." 

"We  can  do  it,  Mr.  Goodwin.  I'm  not  sure  of 
it,  but  I  think  they  have  a  deal  between  them." 

"In  what  way?" 

"They  didn't  expect  you  to  step  in  with  a  bid. 
They  thought  that  as  soon  as  your  uncle  died  they'd 
have  things  all  their  own  way.  Shacker  thinks  you 
are  nothing  but  a  college  dude,  as  he  puts  it." 

Ross  shut  his  teeth  hard.  "My  thanks  to  Mr. 
Shacker  for  his  compliment.  I  presume  his  idea  is 
indorsed  by  Breen?" 

"If  you  must  know,  Breen  says  he  isn't  afraid  of 
any  young  fellow  with  nothing  but  book  learning 
in  his  head." 

"But  he  doesn't  know  I  have  nothing  but  book 
learning  in  my  head."  Ross  grew  more  resolute 
than  ever.  "I'll  prove  to  him  that  the  same  blood 
that  flowed  in  my  uncle's  veins  flows  in  mine.  I'll 
beat  him  at  his  own  game." 

The  young  man's  fist  came  down  on  the  table 
with  a  bang,  and  his  whole  face  lit  up  with  a  light 
that  was  new  to  Cole;  indeed,  that  was  new  to 
everybody,  even  himself.  All  in  an  instant  he  had 
found  a  purpose  in  life,  and  he  was  aglow  with  en- 
thusiasm. He  jumped  up,  and  began  to  pace  the 
floor. 

"Cole,   we   must   get   that   contract!"   he   cried. 


The  Railroad  Contract  31 

"We'll  go  at  it  to-morrow — just  as  soon  as  you  can 
arrange  matters  at  the  outlet  sewer.  I'll  get  the 
papers,  and  we  can  go  over  them  together,  and  go 
over  the  route,  too.  Is  there  anybody  you  can 
leave  in  charge  of  the  sewer  work?" 

"I  can  leave  O'Mara." 

"Is  he  all  right?" 

"He  may  be,  after  I've  told  him  that  you  are 
going  ahead  with  the  business.  He's  been  snuffing 
around  Breen  for  a  job,  thinking  this  would  soon 
peter  out." 

"I  see.     What  about  the  others?" 

"Oh,  the  Dagoes  and  Poles  will  work  as  long  as 
there  is  anything  to  do.  They  don't  know  but  what 
we  have  other  contracts  on  hand." 

"Well,  you  fix  it  with  O'Mara,  and  if  you  can  get 
through,  you  meet  me  in  Cressing  at  the  hotel,  be- 
tween three  and  four  o'clock  to-morrow." 

The  next  day  was  a  busy  one  for  Ross.  There 
were  a  number  of  things  to  do  at  home,  and  it  was 
nearly  noon  before  he  started  for  Cressing.  He 
went  over  the  route  of  the  new  road,  so  as  to  get  a 
general  idea  of  what  would  be  required  in  the  way 
of  grading  and  blasting  and  filling  in.  This  took 
time,  and  when  the  ten  miles  were  covered,  he 
found  himself  tremendously  hungry. 

"I  guess  I  am  going  to  earn  my  bread  by  the 


32        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

sweat  of  my  brow  now,"  he  told  himself,  grimly, 
as  he  entered  the  hotel  and  ordered  dinner.  On  a 
slip  of  paper  he  had  jotted  down  some  figures  as  he 
came  along,  and  these  he  now  looked  over  while 
waiting  to  be  served. 

The  dining  room  was  next  to  the  barroom,  and 
glancing  into  the  other  apartment  he  saw  two  men 
drinking  there.  One  was  Michael  Breen  and  the 
other  was  a  stranger.  Presently  the  stranger 
left,  and  Breen  came  into  the  dining  room  and 
sauntered  slowly  up  to  the  young  college  grad- 
uate. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Goodwin,"  he  said,  in  a 
broad,  Irish  accent,  and  held  out  a  thick,  heavy 
hand. 

"I  am  very  well,  thank  you,"  answered  Ross,  and 
shook  hands  politely.  "How  are  you?" 

"Middling  well,  Mr.  Goodwin.  I'm  troubled  a 
bit  wid  rheumatism.  I'm  glad  we  met."  The  Irish- 
man dropped  into  a  chair.  "Perhaps  it's  too  early 
to  say  anything,  but  I've  heard  your  late  uncle  left 
you  about  everything  he  had." 

"He  left  me  nearly  everything." 

"Just  so !  And  that  being  the  fact,  I  thought  per- 
haps you'd  be  wantin'  to  sell  some  things  before 
long — drills,  and  carts,  and  picks,  and  shovels,  and 
the  like." 


The  Railroad  Contract  33 

"Oh !"  Ross  paused.  "So  you  take  it  for  granted 
that  I  won't  keep  up  the  contracting  business." 

"It's  hardly  the  business  that  would  be  after 
suitin'  a  college  man." 

"That  depends  on  the  man,  Mr.  Breen." 

"Then  you  are  going  to  keep  on?"  said  Michael 
Breen,  quickly.  His  surprise  was  evident. 

"For  the  present,  yes.  You  know  we  have  that 
outlet  sewer  to  complete." 

"And  after  that  you'll  sell  out?" 

"Perhaps — if  I  can't  get  the  work  I  want." 

"Take  my  advice,  and  keep  out  of  the  business, 
Mr.  Goodwin.  There's  no  money  in  it  any  more. 
Anybody  who  can  git  a  lot  of  Dagoes  together 
calls  himself  a  contractor.  They  don't  make  any 
money  themselves,  and  they  don't  give  anybody  else 
a  chance  to  make  anything." 

"Then  perhaps  you  feel  like  selling  out,"  an- 
swered Ross,  dryly. 

"I  do,  Mr.  Goodwin.  But  who  will  give  me  an 
honest  price  for  my  stuff?  I've  got  thousands  of 
dollars  locked  up  in  drills,  and  horses  and  carts, 
and  hoisting  machinery,  and  I've  got  to  make  it 
bring  in  something." 

"Well,  if  business  was  so  poor  I  shouldn't  wish 
to  buy  more  stuff,  if  I  were  you." 

"Oh,  well,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  liked  your  uncle — 


34        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

a  fine  man — and  I  thought  I  might  help  you  out,  in 
case  you  didn't  know  what  to  do  with  the  stuff." 

"Thanks,  but  I  don't  need  any  help.  I  might 
use  it  to  set  Larry  Cole  up  in  business." 

"Him!  Don't  waste  your  money  on  such  a 
fellow,  Mr.  Goodwin.  He  did  your  uncle  more 
harm  than  good." 

"Oh,  I  can't  believe  that.  He  is  a  very  straight- 
forward, honest  foreman." 

"Is  he?"  Mike  Breen  arose  and  leaned  forward. 
His  voice  sank  to  a  whisper.  "Don't  you  believe  it. 
If  you'll  promise  not  to  tell,  I'll  tell  you  what  he 
tried  to  do." 

There  was  an  odd  smile  on  Ross'  face  as  he  made 
reply : 

"Well,  what  did  he  do?" 

"He  came  to  me  when  that  outlet  sewer  contract 
came  up.  If  I  had  promised  him  a  thousand  dollars 
he  would  have  sold  out  your  uncle,  and  the  con- 
tract would  have  gone  to  me  or  to  Shacker.  But 
I  was  honest Oh,  what's  this?" 

For  a  hand  had  suddenly  grasped  Mike  Breen  by 
the  shoulder  and  whirled  him  around.  As  he 
turned,  his  gaze  met  the  wrathful  eyes  of  Larry 
Cole,  and  the  next  instant  he  measured  his  length 
on  the  dining  room  floor  with  a  dull  thud. 

"You  dirty  hound!"  cried  the  foreman,  standing 


The  Railroad  Contract  35 

over  him  with  clinched  fists.  "You  miserable,  lying 
dog!  Take  back  what  you  said,  or  I'll — I'll " 

"Don't  hit  him  again,  Cole!"  put  in  Ross,  catch- 
ing the  foreman  by  the  hand.  "I  don't  believe  a 
word  of  what  he  said." 

"He  ought  to  be  hung!"  muttered  Cole,  but  his 
hands  fell  to  his  sides. 

With  a  face  full  of  conflicting  emotions,  Mike 
Breen  arose  slowly  to  his  feet.  He  wanted  to  say 
something,  but  collecting  his  senses  was  not  easy. 
He  glanced  around  the  dining  room,  and  was  re- 
lieved to  see  that  no  outsider  had  witnessed  the 
attack. 

"I — I  know  what  I'm  sayin',"  he  began.  "Of 
course  I  can't  prove " 

"Do  you  take  it  back?"  demanded  Cole,  and  ad- 
vanced again,  despite  Ross'  attempt  to  hold  him 
back. 

"No!"  roared  Breen.     "I'll  take  back  nuthin'!" 

"Then  I'll  choke  the  lie  down  your  miserable 
throat!"  yelled  Cole,  and  caught  the  Irish  con- 
tractor by  the  windpipe.  He  backed  Breen  against 
the  wall,  and  banged  his  head  into  a  bill  of  fare 
tacked  there. 

"Le — let  up!"  was  all  Breen  could  gasp. 
"Le "  And  then  came  nothing  but  a  gurgle. 

"Do  you  take  it  back?" 


36        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Ye— yes." 

"Then  go!"  And  now  Cole  flung  the  man  back 
half  across  one  of  the  tables. 

Staggering  like  a  drunken  man,  Mike  Breen 
picked  himself  up,  and  left  the  dining  room  almost 
on  a  run.  Following  to  the  door,  Ross  saw  him 
hurry  to  the  corner,  leap  into  his  Ford  runabout, 
and  speed  away. 


"I'M  afraid  you've  piled  up  trouble  for  yourself, 
Cole,"  remarked  Ross,  on  turning  back  into  the 
dining  room.  "Breen  will  never  forgive  you  for 
knocking  him  down." 

The  tall  foreman  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "I'm 
not  afraid  of  the  cur.  What  else  could  I  do  ?  Stand 
there  and  listen  to  his  lies?" 

"I  suppose  he  made  the  yarn  out  of  the  whole 
cloth." 

"That's  the  exact  truth,  Mr.  Goodwin.  I  never 
went  near  him  of  my  own  account.  Just  before 
the  outlet  sewer  contract  was  given  out  he  sent  for 
me  to  come  and  see  him.  I  went,  and  he  began  to 
pump  me  about  what  your  uncle  was  doing,  and 
hinted  about  giving  me  big  money  to  sell  him  out. 
I  let  him  talk  and  led  him  on,  just  to  see  what  he 
would  do.  Afterwards  I  told  your  uncle  everything 
— and  that's  one  reason  he  had  no  use  for  Breen." 

"We'll  have  to  watch  him  closely." 

"I'm  glad  I  chanced  along  at  just  the  right  time. 
He  would  have  pumped  you  full  of  his  lies " 

"Don't  you  worry  about  that,  Cole.  My  uncle 
37 


38        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

trusted  you,  and  I  said  I'd  do  the  same."  Ross 
paused  for  a  moment.  "Let's  forget  it  and  come  to 
business." 

Quarter  of  an  hour  later  the  pair  had  left  the 
hotel  and  were  making  their  way  over  to  the  rail- 
road offices  located  in  Cressing.  The  giving  out 
of  the  contract  was  in  the  hands  of  a  Mr.  Appleby 
Sanderson,  a  thin,  nervous,  jerky  man  of  business. 

"Want  to  try  for  the  contract,  eh?"  he  said. 
"All  right,  Mr.  Goodwin;  you  shall  have  your 
chance.  Your  uncle  was  all  right  at  this  sort  of 

thing,  and  if  you've  got  his  blood "  And  then 

he  dropped  off  and  brought  forth  the  plans  and 
specifications. 

"May  I  ask  how  many  bids  are  in?"  Ross  ques- 
tioned. 

"No  questions  of  that  sort  answered,"  was  the 
prompt  reply.  "This  is  a  strict  business  deal.  The 
lowest  contractor  gets  the  work,  providing  he  can 
file  the  necessary  bond." 

"How  large  a  bond?" 

"Twenty  thousand  dollars." 

"I  can  do  that — if  I  happen  to  be  the  lowest 
bidder." 

A  busy  hour  followed,  in  which  Appleby  Sander- 
son, Ross  and  Cole  went  over  the  plans  and  speci- 
fications in  detail.  Everything  was  clear  enough, 


"It's  Make  or  Break!"  39 

and  Ross  could  see  that  all  he  had  to  do  was  to 
figure  on  the  job  and  put  in  his  bid. 

"And  now  for  some  real  figuring,"  said  Ross, 
after  they  had  said  good-day  to  Appleby  Sanderson. 
"Cole,  here  is  where  you  must  give  me  a  lot  of 
help.  I  know  the  theoretical  side  of  the  business, 
but  you've  been  right  in  the  work  for  years " 

"I'll  tell  you  everything  I  know,"  answered  the 
foreman.  He  had  thought  at  the  start  that  he  could 
not  like  a  college  man  for  a  boss,  but  he  was  begin- 
ning to  fairly  love  Ross.  The  young  man  was 
willing  to  acknowledge  his  greenness,  and  in  Cole's 
eyes  this  was  his  most  redeeming  trait. 

Once  more  Ross  went  over  the  proposed  route, 
and  he  and  Cole  did  a  good  deal  of  measuring  on 
their  own  account.  They  inspected  the  rocky  cliff 
to  be  blasted  away,  and  Cole  explained  how  the 
work  could  be  accomplished  in  the  least  expensive 
way. 

"Shacker  is  a  handy  man  at  rocks,"  he  said. 
"And  he  is  the  fellow  to  put  in  a  low  figure  on  this 
sort  of  work." 

"Well,  we  don't  want  to  put  in  such  a  low  figure 
that  we  come  out  of  the  little  end  of  the  horn,  pro- 
viding we  get  the  job,"  returned  Ross. 

The  next  day  the  pair  got  down  to  the  real  figur- 
ing in  the  case.  Here  Ross  showed  the  advantages 


40        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

of  education  by  doing  sums  in  a  manner  that 
amazed  the  foreman. 

"You  can  handle  the  arithmetic  end  all  O.  K.," 
said  Cole,  admiringly.  "It  would  take  your  uncle 
hours  to  do  the  sums  you've  done  in  so  many  min- 
utes." 

To  figure  on  the  plain  dirt  work  was  easy  enough, 
but  with  the  rock  to  be  blasted  it  was  different. 

"You'll  need  a  new  steam  drill  for  that,"  said 
Cole.  "Our  old  one  is  played  out,  and,  besides, 
it's  behind  the  times.  I  heard  it  told  in  Durham 
that  Shacker  had  ordered  one  of  the  latest  drills." 

"Well,  we'll  get  a  new  drill — if  we  get  the  con- 
tract," returned  Ross. 

He  was  warming  up  more  and  more  to  the  work, 
and  he  sincerely  hoped  that  the  contract  would  be 
given  to  him — just  to  show  Breen  and  Shacker  that 
if  John  Goodwin  was  dead,  his  successor  still  lived. 
He  began  to  understand  something  of  the  spirit  of 
rivalry  among  all  the  contractors. 

One  day,  while  he  was  out  alone  tramping  along 
the  proposed  route,  he  saw  a  figure  on  horseback 
some  distance  ahead  of  him. 

"I  bet  that's  Margy,"  he  said  to  himself,  and 
started  forward  quickly. 

The  person  on  horseback  had  halted  and  seemed 
to  be  sitting  in  the  saddle  viewing  the  distant  land- 
scape. As  he  drew  nearer  he  recognized  the  girl 


"It's  Make  or  Break!"  41 

and  waved  his  hand  toward  her.  She  did  not  wave 
in  return,  but  brought  her  horse  around  until  she 
was  looking  down  the  road  in  his  direction.  Then, 
of  a  sudden,  she  whipped  up  her  horse;  and  girl 
and  steed  went  tearing  along  the  hillside  trail  and 
were  soon  lost  in  the  distance. 

As  he  saw  her  disappearing,  the  young  man  came 
to  a  sudden  halt,  and  a  flush  that  was  not  altogether 
from  his  exertions  mounted  swiftly  to  his  face. 

"She  saw  me — she  must  have  seen  me !"  he  mut- 
tered to  himself. 

The  thought  filled  him  with  bitterness,  and  for 
fully  five  minutes  he  rambled  over  the  rocks  unable 
to  bind  himself  once  more  down  to  the  work  at 
hand.  He  tried  to  catch  another  sight  of  her,  but 
the  girl  did  not  reappear. 

Ross  thought  of  the  concert  Margaret  had  men- 
tioned. It  was  a  charitable  affair,  and  was  to  come 
off  on  the  evening  of  the  next  day.  It  was  to  be 
the  occasion  Durham  had  seen  for  many  a  day, 
and  he  did  not  doubt  but  what  the  finest  people  for 
miles  around  would  attend.  The  committee  had 
sent  him  five  tickets,  and  in  the  goodness  of  his 
heart  he  had  kept  and  paid  for  them  all. 

He  felt  that  Margaret  would  look  for  him  at  that 
concert,  in  spite  of  what  she  had  said  and  intimated. 
Should  he  go,  or  had  he  best  stay  away  ? 

He  asked  himself  that  question,  not  once,  but 


42        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

many  times,  without  reaching  a  satisfactory  answer. 
He  felt  he  was  in  a  good  deal  of  a  muddle. 

"If  I  go,  she'll  think  I  am  crawling,"  was  the 
way  he  put  it  to  himself.  "And  if  I  don't  go  she'll 
be  cut  to  the  quick." 

Then  his  pride  arose  to  the  surface,  and  he  told 
himself  that  it  would  be  utterly  impossible  for  him 
to  attend. 

The  next  day  was  the  one  he  had  selected  for  put- 
ting in  the  bid.  From  early  morning  until  noon  he 
went  over  the  figures  once  more,  making  certain  that 
there  were  no  mistakes.  Then  in  a  firm  hand  he 
wrote  out  his  bid  in  detail  and  signed  it,  "Ross  Good- 
win, successor  to  John  Goodwin."  The  world  should 
know  that  he  intended  to  follow  in  his  uncle's  foot- 
steps, regardless  of  the  fact  of  his  college  training. 

"It's  make  or  break!"  he  muttered  to  himself, 
after  his  bid  had  been  safely  delivered.  "What  a 
lot  of  hustling  I'll  have  to  do  if  the  work  really  does 
come  my  way!" 

Only  one  person  had  thrown  cold  water  on  his 
enthusiasm.  This  was  Pat  O'Mara,  the  fellow  his 
uncle  had  known  little  about,  and  the  one  Cole  had 
said  had  applied  to  Breen  for  a  situation. 

"It's  a  risky  bit  o'  business,  I  can  tell  ye  that," 
O'Mara  had  said,  when  Ross  met  him  at  Jackson's 
Point.  "The  dirt  is  easy  enough,  but  that  rock  is  as 


"It's  Make  or  Break!"  43 

hard  as  flint.  You'll  lose  money  trying  to  blast  it 
out  and  cart  it  away." 

"Can't  we  get  the  rock  out  as  easily  as  Breen  or 
Shacker  can?"  Ross  had  questioned. 

"I'm  not  after  thinkin'  so,  Mr.  Goodwin.  They 
have  good  drills  and  foin  hoistin'  machinery,  while 
our  outfit  is  out  o'  date." 

"Well,  we'll  have  to  get  new  tools  to  work  with 
— if  we  get  the  contract." 

O'Mara  was  anxious  to  learn  if  Ross  really  put 
in  a  bid,  and  when  told  yes  by  Cole  wanted  to  know 
something  of  the  figures. 

"You'll  have  to  ask  Mr.  Goodwin  about  that," 
answered  the  tall  foreman.  "And  you  might  as  well 
save  your  breath,  for  he  won't  tell  you,"  he  added. 

But  O'Mara  was  more  anxious  than  he  cared  to 
acknowledge  to  Cole,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  he 
called  on  Ross,  under  pretext  of  asking  about  some- 
thing to  be  done  on  the  outlet  sewer. 

"Cole  tells  me  you've  put  in  a  bid  for  the  rail- 
road work,"  he  said,  during  the  course  of  the  con- 
versation. 

"I  have,  O'Mara,  and  I  suppose  you'll  be  glad  if  I 
get  the  job,"  answered  Ross,  with  a  smile,  and  at 
the  same  time  studying  the  face  before  him. 

"If  you  don't  lose  money,  sir.  I  hope  you  made 
your  bid  high  enough  to  clear  yourself." 


44        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"If  we  get  the  work  Cole  and  I  have  calculated 
that  we'll  make  a  fair  profit." 

"Your  uncle  knew  how  to  figure,  but  I,  don't 
know  as  Cole  ever  did."  O'Mara  shifted  uneasily. 
"If  it's  any  of  my  business,  about  what  is  the  job 
worth?" 

"Oh,  it's  worth  something  in  the  neighborhood 
of  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,"  and  Ross  gave  a 
light  laugh.  "You  mustn't  bother  me  about  figures 
now.  I've  been  over  them  so  often  that  I  am  sick 
of  them,"  he  continued,  pointedly. 

O'Mara  was  rather  thick-headed,  but  the  hint 
was  sufficient,  and  he  said  no  more  on  the  subject. 
He  returned  again  to  the  subject  of  the  outlet  sewer; 
and  a  few  minutes  later  took  his  departure. 

While  eating  supper  Ross  found  himself  looking 
at  the  clock  more  than  once.  He  had  imagined  that 
the  bid  would  claim  all  of  his  thoughts,  but  he  was 
sadly  mistaken. 

His  mind  reverted  continually  to  Margaret  and 
the  concert.  After  all,  why  shouldn't  he  go?  It 
was  a  local  affair  in  which  many  others  were  inter- 
ested besides  Margaret. 

If  he  did  not  go  folks  might  begin  to  ask  ques- 
tions, for  they  all  knew  what  intimate  friends  he 
and  the  girl  had  been  in  the  past.  He  certainly  didn't 
want  to  cause  any  gossip. 


"It's  Make  or  Break!"  45 

"I'll  go,  but  I  shan't  make  any  fuss  over  her," 
he  told  himself,  and  flew  upstairs  to  get  into  his 
dress  suit.  But  then  he  thought  of  his  late  uncle 
and  the  funeral  not  so  many  weeks  past.  Perhaps 
he  had  better  not  go,  after  all. 

While  he  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  the  house- 
keeper knocked  on  his  door. 

"A  telephone  message  for  you,  sir,"  she  said. 

"Maybe  Margy  is  sending  me  some  word,"  he  told 
himself,  and  hurried  to  the  telephone. 

"Is  this  Mr.  Ross  Goodwin?"  came  in  a  heavy, 
masculine  voice  over  the  wire. 

"Yes." 

"Well,  this  is  one  of  your  workmen  at  Jackson's 
Point.  There's  been  a  bad  cave-in  down  here,  and 
we  don't  know  what  to  do  about  it." 

"A  cave-in,  eh?"  returned  Ross.  "Anybody 
hurt?" 

"Yes,  sir.     Two  of  the  Poles." 

"Badly?" 

"I  can't  say  as  to  that,  sir.  One  of  'em  has  a 
leg  hurted,  and  the  other  got  struck  on  the  head 
and  is  unconscious." 

"Isn't  O'Mara  there?" 

"No,  sir.  He  left  about  ten  minutes  before  the 
accident  happened." 

"And  what  about  Cole?" 


46        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"He  ain't  here  either." 

"Well,  who  are  you?" 

"I'm  Jimmy  McGuire.  I'm  in  charge  when 
O'Mara  is  away." 

"Have  you  sent  for  a  doctor,  McGuire?" 

"I  have  that,  sir." 

"Well,  have  him  do  what  he  can  for  the  men, 
and  have  them  taken  either  to  the  hospital  or  to 
their  shacks,  just  as  the  doctor  thinks  best.  I'll 
be  over  there  just  as  soon  as  I  can  make  it  in  my 
auto;"  and  after  a  few  words  more  Ross  hung  up 
the  receiver. 

With  this  unexpected  cave-in  on  his  mind,  the 
concert  was  well-nigh  forgotten.  Telling  the 
housekeeper  that  he  might  not  be  back  until  the  next 
day,  he  dashed  downstairs  and  out  to  the  garage. 
He  found  Jerry  sitting  near  by,  smoking  his  pipe. 

"I've  got  to  get  down  to  Jackson's  Point  just  as 
quick  as  we  can  make  it,  Jerry,"  he  called  out. 
"There  has  been  a  cave-in,  and  some  of  the  men  are 
hurt.  Get  out  the  runabout  and  see  that  everything 
is  in  order  to  make  the  distance  in  record  time." 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  the  quick  reply,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  more  Ross  and  the  man  were  on  the  way. 

It  was  a  wild,  uncertain  ride,  for  the  roads  in 
that  district  were  in  anything  but  a  good  condition. 
Frequently  the  old  chauffeur  brought  the  speedom- 


"It's  Make  or  Break!"  47 

eter  up  to  where  it  registered  forty  miles  an  hour. 

"Take  care  that  you  don't  break  the  springs  or 
an  axle,"  warned  Ross,  after  they  had  gone  over 
some  rough  rocks  which  had  all  but  bounced  him 
out  on  the  roadway.  "This  isn't  any  boulevard." 

"Well,  you  said  you  wanted  to  get  there  as  soon 
as  you  could,"  returned  the  man  of  all  work,  grimly. 

"Right  you  are,  Jerry — but  I  don't  want  to  break 
my  neck  doing  it,"  answered  the  young  man. 

They  covered  several  miles  where  the  only  lights 
on  the  road  were  those  of  the  automobile.  Then 
they  made  several  dangerous  turns,  sweeping  in 
under  some  overhanging  trees  where  they  both  had 
to  duck  to  escape  being  struck.  Then  they  made 
another  turn,  and  presently  came  out  to  where  they 
saw  the  light  of  a  number  of  lanterns  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

"I  guess  that  is  where  the  cave-in  happened," 
was  Ross'  comment,  and  he  was  right. 

They  soon  drew  up  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of 
Poles,  all  talking  wildly. 

"I'm  glad  you've  arrived,"  remarked  Jimmy  Mc- 
Guire,  as  he  pushed  his  way  to  the  front  through 
the  crowd.  "Those  Poles  couldn't  have  been  any 
more  excited  if  there' d  been  an  earthquake  " 

"What  about  the  men  who  were  hurt?"  inquired 
the  young  man  quickly. 


48         Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"The  doctor's  just  got  here,  and  he's  takin'  care 
of  'em  now.  You  might  ask  him." 

"All  right,  McGuire.  And  what  about  this  cave- 
in?" 

"Oh,  I  think  we  can  fix  that  up,  although  it  may 
take  the  best  part  of  a  night  to  do  it." 

"It  wouldn't  be  best  to  leave  it  till  morning, 
would  it?" 

"No,  sir.  We've  got  to  do  some  shoring  up  at 
once  or  else  another  section  may  give  way." 

"All  right,  then,  get  the  men  to  work  at  once. 
But  be  careful,  I  don't  want  any  more  of  them  to 
get  hurt." 

"We'll  be  careful,  Mr.  Goodwin, — don't  worry 
about  that,"  answered  McGuire  dryly.  "The  men 
have  got  their  eyes  wide  open,  believe  me." 

Ross  pushed  his  way  forward,  and  finally  reached 
a  spot  in  front  of  one  of  the  shacks  where  the  two 
injured  men  were  lying  on  two  piles  of  horse- 
blankets.  Two  Poles  with  lanterns  were  standing 
near  by,  and  a  doctor  in  his  shirtsleeves  was  work- 
ing over  the  poor  fellow  who  had  been  knocked  un- 
conscious. 

"The  other  fellow  has  his  ankle  twisted,"  said  the 
doctor.  "I  don't  think  it's  very  serious.  But  this 
poor  chap  caught  it  pretty  badly.  I  think,  Mr.  Good- 
win, we  had  better  take  him  over  to  the  hospital." 


"It's  Make  or  Break!"  49 

"All  right,  Doctor.  The  question  is,  How  can 
we  get  him  over?  I  don't  think  I  can  carry  him  in 
my  runabout.  I  should  have  brought  the  seven- 
passenger  car." 

"I've  got  my  old  five-passenger  car  here;  we 
can  utilize  that,"  answered  the  physician.  And  a 
few  minutes  later  both  of  the  injured  men  were 
placed  in  the  touring  car  and  the  doctor  and  one  of 
the  workmen  went  off  with  them  toward  the  near- 
est hospital,  which  was  six  miles  away. 

As  soon  as  the  injured  men  had  been  carried  off, 
Ross  turned  his  attention  once  more  to  the  cave-in. 
He  went  over  the  big  trench  and  consulted  with 
McGuire,  who  had  already  set  the  men  to  work. 

"You  have  that  shoring  put  up  good  and  strong 
this  time,  McGuire,"  ordered  Ross.  "I  don't  want 
to  take  any  more  chances." 

"I  suppose  hurting  those  men  will  cost  you  quite 
a  penny,"  remarked  the  foreman. 

"Perhaps.  I  rather  think,  though,  we  have  all 
these  men  insured." 

Ross  remained  at  Jackson's  Point  until  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  then  he  and  Jerry  rode  home. 

It  was  not  till  the  next  day  that  the  young  con- 
tractor learned,  through  the  medium  of  the  Durham 
Daily  Press,  what  a  grand  success  the  concert  had 
been  and  of  how  Margaret  had  carried  off  the  best 


50        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

of  the  honors.  There  was  a  quarter  of  a  column 
devoted  to  her  singing,  which  was  pronounced 
superb,  and  her  dress,  which  was  described  as  ex- 
quisite. The  article  ran: 

Miss  Poole  undoubtedly  has  a  great  future 
before  her.  We  certainly  expect  to  see  her  at 
no  distant  day  on  the  grand  opera  stage,  or 
singing  in  one  of  the  finest  of  metropolitan 
churches. 

"She  certainly  must  have  made  a  hit,"  he  mused. 
"Wonder  what  she  thought  when  she  found  I 
wasn't  present?  Perhaps  she  didn't  think  anything 
about  it." 

He  heaved  a  long  sigh.  It  was  not  such  a  far 
cry  from  business  to  sentiment,  after  all. 


CHAPTER  V 

AWARDING  THE  CONTRACT 

To  sing  at  such  a  concert,  even  before  the  elite  of 
Durham  and  vicinity,  was  no  ordeal  for  such  a  girl 
as  Margaret  Poole.  Strong-willed  and  self-reliant, 
she  scarcely  knew  the  meaning  of  "nerves,"  and 
after  her  practising  was  at  an  end  she  scarcely  gave 
the  concert  a  second  thought.  She  would  sing  her 
best,  and  Durhamites  might  think  what  they  pleased 
about  it. 

Consequently,  when  she  was  dressing,  her  mind 
was  on  other  things.  She  remembered  her  last  talk 
with  Ross.  She  had  not  seen  him  at  the  rocky  cliff 
as  he  had  believed.  But  she  had  heard  through 
others  that  he  was  preparing  to  go  to  work.  This 
made  her  sigh.  Well,  he  must  know  best.  But, 
oh,  she  had  hoped  for  so  much  from  him ! 

"I  don't  see  why  he  can't  become  a  doctor  or  a 
lawyer  or  a  professor,  or  something  like  that,"  she 
murmured,  as  she  stood  before  her  mirror  survey- 
ing herself.  "He  would  make  a  fine  lawyer — I  am 
sure  of  it !  And  who  knows  but  what  some  day  he 
might  become  the  judge  in  one  of  those  big  courts. 
And  to  think  he  chooses  to  be  just  a  common  con- 
Si 


52        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

tractor!  Oh  dear,  I  never  did  think  he  would  be 
so  headstrong." 

As  it  grew  later  the  leading  florist  of  Durham 
sent  his  boy  around  with  a  bouquet.  But  it  was  one 
her  mother  had  ordered,  and  not  one  from  Ross, 
and  this  gave  her  heart  another  pang.  In  the  past 
he  had  never  forgotten  to  send  flowers,  no  matter 
how  trifling  the  occasion. 

"I  suppose  he's  thinking  so  much  of  his  contract- 
ing he  can't  stop  to  think  of  me!"  she  told  herself. 
"Well,  I  don't  care!  If  he  isn't  going  to  make 

something  of  himself "  And  then  a  curious 

lump  arose  in  her  throat  which  she  swallowed  with 
difficulty. 

To  let  her  in  at  the  stage  door  to  the  concert 
hall  the  chauffeur  had  to  drive  around  the  corner 
of  a  side  street.  On  the  far  corner  was  a  saloon, 
and  as  the  turnout  came  closer  she  saw  two  men 
come  out  of  the  drinking  place  and  walk  along  the 
pavement.  She  recognized  one  as  Michael  Breen, 
the  contractor. 

"And  to  think  that  Ross  wants  to  put  himself  on 

a  level "  she  began  to  herself.  "But  no,  no 

matter  what  Ross  does  he'll  never  get  to  be  like  that 
horrid  man." 

The  automobile  had  to  wait  for  another  car  to 
get  out  of  the  way,  and  when  Margaret  alighted 


Awarding  the  Contract  53 

she  found  Breen  and  the  stranger  standing  in  a 
dark  corner  near  the  doorway,  talking  earnestly. 

"So  you  couldn't  find  out  Goodwin's  figures?" 
she  heard  Breen  say.  "It's  too  bad,  O'Mara." 

"I  done  me  best,  Mr.  Breen.  But  he  ain't  givin' 
nuthin'  away.  I'm  after  thinkin'  Cole  set  him  up 
to  it." 

Margaret  paused,  for  she  could  not  help  but  feel 
interested.  They  were  talking  of  Ross  and,  most 
likely,  of  that  railroad  contract.  She  bent  down  as 
if  to  do  something  to  her  shoe. 

"We  mustn't  let  him  swipe  the  job  from  under 
our  noses,"  Breen  continued.  "Didn't  you  tell 
him  there  was  no  money  in  it?" 

"I  did  that;  and  I'll  bet  his  figures  is  high 
enough." 

"Yes,  but  so  are  ours.  Shacker  and  me  both 
thought  we  had  competition  out  of  the  way." 

"If  ye  made  a  deal  fer  a  rake-off,"  began  O'Mara, 
"you  had  best  put  in  a  new  bid.  Say  the  old  wan 
was  a  mistake,  or  somethin'  like  that." 

"It's  easy  enough  to  talk,"  retorted  Breen,  an- 
grily. "We  have  a  deal — I  don't  deny  it.  But  to 
cut  under  now " 

This  was  all  Margaret  heard.  Another  car 
came  up,  with  more  singers,  and  there  was  a  babble 
of  voices,  in  the  midst  of  which  Breen  and  O'Mara 


54        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

sauntered  off.  Then  the  girl  was  surrounded  by 
friends  and  swept  away  to  the  tiny  greenroom  be- 
hind the  stage  of  the  only  public  hall  of  which 
Durham  boasted. 

Even  here  she  looked  for  Ross  to  visit  her,  and 
she  determined  to  tell  him  all  she  had  heard,  without 
delay.  It  might  not  mean  much,  and  then,  again, 
it  might  mean  a  great  deal — he  would  know  about 
that.  She  would  let  him  feel  that  she  had  his  suc- 
cess at  heart,  no  matter  what  he  attempted  to  do. 

As  already  told,  the  concert  was  a  great  success, 
but  all  the  applause  she  received  did  not  compensate 
for  the  bitterness  that  filled  her  heart  when  she  at 
last  admitted  to  herself  that  he  had  not  come.  Her 
hope  held  out  until  the  second  part  of  the  concert, 
and  until  her  last  song  was  sung,  and  she  looked 
around  for  him  even  at  the  final  encore. 

"He  doesn't  care,  after  all,"  she  told  herself,  for 
the  fiftieth  time.  "Or  else  it  is  possible  that  he 
stayed  home  on  his  uncle's  account,"  and  with  this 
last  thought  she  tried  to  comfort  herself. 

Should  she  write  him  a  letter,  telling  of  what  she 
had  heard  the  night  before?  Such  was  the  ques- 
tion she  asked  herself  in  the  morning.  She  wanted 
to  be  his  friend.  But  he  might  not  understand  that 
letter,  and  might  think  that  she  was  merely  trying  to 
draw  him  back  to  her.  At  this  her  cheeks  flamed. 


Awarding  the  Contract  55 

"I  couldn't  do  that — I  really  couldn't,"  she  mur- 
mured, and  began  to  pace  the  floor.  Then  an  in- 
spiration seized  her.  In  a  disguised  hand  she  wrote 
a  letter,  telling  the  particulars  of  the  talk,  and 
signing  the  communication  "A  Friend."  This  she 
posted  herself,  on  the  sly,  at  the  local  office. 

The  letter  was  brought  to  Ross,  with  several 
others,  by  Jerry  that  evening.  The  bids  for  the 
railroad  work  were  to  be  opened  at  noon  of  the 
following  day.  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  the 
young  college  graduate  was  a  trifle  nervous.  In- 
side of  the  next  twenty-four  hours  he  would  either 
have  a  very  large  contract  on  hand,  or  he  would  be, 
practically,  out  of  business. 

He  opened  the  communications  quickly.  One  was 
a  bill,  another  an  application  for  work,  a  third  a 
"library"  offer  of  Balzac's  works  at  the  low  price 
of  a  dollar  down  and  a  dollar  a  month  until  paid  for, 
satisfaction  guaranteed.  These  he  thrust  aside 
impatiently.  Then  he  read  the  letter  signed  "A 
Friend"  slowly  and  critically. 

"Unless  this  is  a  fake  somebody  is  trying  to  do 
me  a  good  turn,"  he  said  to  himself.  "Wonder 
who  wrote  it?  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  can  recognize 
the  handwriting.  It  looks  like  a  man's  hand  in 
some  spots  and  like  a  woman's  in  others."  He 
caught  his  breath.  "Could  Margaret — pshaw!  she 


56        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

wouldn't  be  any  place  she  could  hear  Breen  and 
O'Mara  talk." 

After  deliberation  he  determined  to  say  nothing 
about  the  letter.  It  was  too  late  now  to  do  anything 
more  concerning  the  contract.  The  bid  was  as  low 
as  he  cared  to  make  it,  and  if  Breen  really  felt  able 
to  cut  under  the  price  why  the  work  would  have  to 
go  to  the  Irishman.  In  that  case  O'Mara  would  be 
out  of  work,  so  far  as  Ross  was  concerned. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  the  contract  came  his  way 
the  young  college  graduate  determined  to  watch 
O'Mara  closely,  and  give  him  no  more  leeway  than 
was  necessary. 

He  would  not  discharge  the  fellow  until  he  was 
certain  the  man  deserved  it. 

Early  in  the  morning  Cole  came  in,  and  the  fore- 
man showed  plainly  that  he  was  worried. 

"The  cave-in  was  O'Mara's  fault,"  he  said,  com- 
ing to  business  at  once.  "He  didn't  shore  up  the 
trench  as  I  told  him.  He  used  the  weakest  planks 
we  had  when  I  told  him  to  use  the  heaviest." 

"We'll  see  about  this  later,"  answer  Ross.  "To- 
day tells  the  tale  for  all  of  us." 

"I've  got  news,"  went  on  Cole.  "Shacker  and 
Breen  are  getting  together.  Your  putting  in  a  bid 
has  scared  'em." 

"Can  they  drop  below  us,  do  you  think?" 


Awarding  the  Contract  57 

"Will  they,  you  mean?  They  can  do  anything 
they  please." 

"But  they've  got  to  give  a  bond,  the  same  as 
myself." 

"Yes,  that  is  where  the  railroad  company  will 
have  'em  where  the  hair  is  good  and  long."  Cole 
stretched  his  long,  loose-hung  frame.  "Hang  me 
if  I  don't  wish  the  thing  was  over.  It's  like  waiting 
for  a  jury  to  come  out  and  say  guilty  or  not 
guilty." 

Ross  had  to  laugh  at  the  apt  simile.  "Well,  the 
agony  will  be  over  in  a  very  few  hours  now,"  he 
said. 

"Are  you  going  over  to  Cressing?" 

"Yes,  and  you  might  as  well  go  along.  I  know 
you'll  be  on  pins  and  needles  until  you  hear  from  the 
thing." 

Cole  was  willing  enough,  and  they  started  so  as 
to  reach  the  railroad  offices  shortly  before  noon. 

The  opening  of  the  bids  was  to  be  a  public  affair 
so  far  as  those  interested  were  concerned,  and  over 
a  score  of  men  w,ere  crowded  into  the  place,  some 
sitting  on  chairs  and  the  others  on  a  railing,  and 
on  a  box  somebody  had  brought  in  from  the  depot 
platform. 

The  air  was  thick  with  tobacco  smoke,  and  every- 
body appeared  to  be  talking  at  once.  To  appear 


58        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

at  ease  Ross  filled  the  "bulldog"  he  had  brought 
along  from  Yale,  and  puffed  away  with  the  rest. 

"Has  anybody  any  other  bid  to  hand  in?"  was 
the  question  put  presently  by  Appleby  Sanderson. 

"I  have,"  came  from  Breen.  'I've  gone  over 
the  ground  again  and  want  to  make  a  new  bid. 
Can  I  withdraw  the  old?" 

"Certainly;  the  time  isn't  up  yet." 

"Then  give  me  the  old  one  back,  and  here's  the 
new  one,"  went  on  the  Irish  contractor,  and  an  ex- 
change of  documents  was  made  on  the  spot. 

"Ike,  Mike  is  going  to  cut  you  sure,"  said  one 
man  in  the  crowd.  "Haven't  you  got  a  new  bid, 
too?" 

Ike  Shacker,  a  small,  shrewd- faced  individual, 
who  was  smoking  a  Pittsburgh  stogy,  shook  his 
head. 

"I've  made  my  bid  and  I'll  stick  to  it.  If  I  can't 
make  a  little  honest  money  I  don't  want  the  job." 

At  this  one  of  the  men  turned  to  Ross. 

"I  suppose  you  are  in  this?  Somebody  told  me 
you  had  stepped  into  your  uncle's  shoes." 

"We'll  see  if  I  am  in  it  when  the  bids  are  opened," 
Ross  answered,  briefly. 

This  was  the  first  time  Cole  and  Breen  had  met 
since  the  quarrel.  The  Irishman  avoided  the  fore- 
man, and  Cole  also  kept  away  from  his  enemy. 


Awarding  the  Contract  59 

"Got  to  do  it,  or  I  might  pitch  into  him,"  whis- 
pered Cole  to  Ross. 

"Don't  make  a  scene  here,  Cole,"  the  young  man 
answered. 

The  clock  struck  and  the  time  for  putting  in  more 
bids  came  to  an  end.  Ross  as  well  as  the  others 
were  surprised  to  see  that  Appleby  Sanderson  held 
five  documents  in  his  hands. 

"We  have  five  bids  here,"  he  said.  "One  from 
Michael  Breen,  one  from  Isaac  Shacker  and  one 
from  Ross  Goodwin,  all  from  this  neighborhood, 
and  one  each  from  the  Pittsburgh  Contracting  Com- 
pany and  the  Alton  &  Carr  Company,  of  Buffalo. 
As  announced  before,  this  contract  is  to  go  to  the 
lowest  bidder,  providing  he  can  file  the  necessary 
bond,  otherwise  it  goes  to  the  next  lowest.  We  will 
now  open  the  bids  and  read  the  figures.  We  will 
start  on  the  bid  of  the  Pittsburgh  Contracting  Com- 
pany." 

The  envelope  was  torn  open  and  the  document 
inside  examined. 

"Total  amount  for  all  work,  $160,000,"  an- 
nounced the  railroad  clerk  in  a  clear  voice.  "Takes 
all  or  none." 

"We  can  beat  that,"  whispered  one  of  the  men 
to  Shacker. 

"The  next  bid  is  that  of  Alton  &  Carr,  who  also 


60        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

bid  for  all  the  work  or  none.  Their  figure  is 
$172,000." 

"They  must  want  a  profit,"  said  one  man,  and 
several  laughed,  while  the  representative  of  the 
firm  backed  to  a  far  corner  of  the  office. 

"The  next  bid  is  that  of  Isaac  Shacker,"  went 
on  the  clerk.  "His  bid  is  for  all  or  none  of  the 
work,  the  same  as  the  others.  His  figure  is  $147,- 
ooo." 

There  was  a  good-natured  laugh  at  this  announce- 
ment. 

"Say,  Ike,  you  did  want  to  make  a  little  honest 
money,  didn't  you?"  said  one  in  the  crowd.  For 
reply  Shacker  merely  scowled. 

"The  next  bid  we  have  in  hand  is  that  of  Ross 
Goodwin,  successor  to  John  Goodwin,"  went  on  the 
clerk.  "The  bid  is  in  two  parts — $65,000  for  the 
work  from  Durham  to  Grass  Creek,  and  $75,500 
for  the  work  from  Grass  Creek  to  Cressing,  or  else 
the  whole  work  for  $139,000." 

"The  divil!"  burst  from  Michael  Breen's  lips. 
He  pushed  forward.  "Give  me  that  last  bid  o' 
mine?"  he  demanded. 

But  it  was  already  open,  and  the  clerk  had 
glanced  at  the  figures. 

"The  last  bid  here  is  from  Michael  Breen,"  he 
announced.  "He  wants  $66,000  for  the  work  from 


Awarding  the  Contract  61 

Durham  to  Grass  Creek,  and  $76,500  for  the  work 
from  Grass  Creek  to  Cressing,  or  else  $141,000 
for  the  whole  job." 

Cole  slapped  Ross  on  the  shoulder.  "The  con- 
tract is  ours.  You  are  $2,000  below  any  of  'em," 
he  cried.  And  Ross  realized  that  he  spoke  the 
truth,  and  that  he  himself  was  truly  in  business  at 
last. 


CHAPTER  VI 
'TWIXT  BUSINESS  AND  SOMETHING  ELSE 

IMMEDIATELY  after  the  last  announcement  had 
been  made  there  was  a  hum  of  conversation  all  over 
the  room.  Several  came  forward  to  congratulate 
Ross  on  his  success. 

"Going  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  your  uncle, 
I  see,"  said  one  man.  "Well,  I  hope  you  come  out 
all  right  on  it."  But  his  face  showed  some  doubt 
of  the  young  college  graduate's  ability  to  cope  with 
the  work  he  had  undertaken. 

Breen's  face  was  filled  with  disappointment  and 
anger.  A  keen,  understanding  look  passed  between 
him  and  Ike  Shacker,  and  then  the  Irishman  glared 
at  Ross. 

"You've  got  the  job,"  he  almost  hissed,  "but  ye 
ain't  carried  it  through  yet.  The  railroad  will  soon 
see  how  a  dude  of  a  college  boy  can  bite  off  more 
than  he  can  chew,  be  gob!"  And  then  he  hurried 
from  the  office,  followed  by  several  others,  including 
Shacker. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Ross  found  himself 
alone  with  three  of  the  railroad  officials.  Appleby 
Sanderson  shook  him  by  the  hand. 

62 


'Twixt  Business  and  Something  Else    63 

"Goodwin,  I'm  glad  you've  got  it,  and  I  sincerely 
trust  you  make  a  success  of  it,"  he  said.  "Your 
uncle  and  I  were  old  friends.  It  would  have  been 
a  shame  to  have  let  the  splendid  business  he  built 
up  go  to  pieces." 

"When  do  you  expect  to  start  in?"  questioned 
another  official. 

"I'll  file  my  bond  to-morrow,  and  I  think  we  can 
start  work  by  Monday.  Don't  you  think  so,  Cole?" 

"Not  later  than  Wednesday,"  answered  the  fore- 
man. "That  cave-in  at  Jackson's  Point  has  put  us 
back  a  bit,  you'll  remember." 

"We  must  have  one  thing  clearly  understood," 
put  in  the  third  railroad  official,  who  for  reasons  of 
his  own  had  favored  Ike  Shacker.  "This  contract 
has  got  to  be  put  through  on  time.  There  is  to  be 
no  begging  for  an  extension  of  time  when  it  comes 
to  finishing  up;  isn't  that  right,  Morton?" 

"That's  right." 

"We'll  put  it  through  on  time,  unless  an  earth- 
quake or  something  as  bad  stops  us,"  said  Ross. 

There  was  not  much  else  to  say  after  that,  and 
presently  Ross  and  Cole  took  their  departure. 
Cole's  face  was  beaming,  and  as  they  walked  across 
the  depot  platform  he  gave  Ross'  shoulder  a  tight 
squeeze. 

"I  feel  like  dancing  a  jig!"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  low 


64        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

voice.  "Did  you  see  Breen's  face,  and  the  look  he 
gave  Shacker?  Both  of  'em  were  about  half  willing 
to  murder  you." 

"I  saw  the  look  that  passed  between  them,"  an- 
swered Ross.  "I  think  there  is  some  sort  of  a  deal 
there.  Did  you  notice  the  figures  of  Shacker's  bid? 
Most  likely  Breen's  first  bid  was  about  as  high. 
They  thought  they  had  it  all  to  themselves." 

"Well,  I  was  surprised  myself  to  see  those  out- 
side bids.  Those  outsiders  must  have  looked  over 
the  ground  and  suspected  Breen  and  Shacker  of  a 
combination  to  hold  up  the  price.  Perhaps  the 
railroad  suspected  it  too  and  invited  the  outsiders 
to  come  in.  But  no  matter,  you  have  it,  and  at  a 
fair  price.  Now  it  is  up  to  us  to  show  all  hands 
what  we  can  do,"  concluded  Larry  Cole. 

On  reaching  home  Ross  found  it  impossible  to 
settle  down  for  some  time.  There  were  a  hundred 
and  one  things  to  do  and  what  to  go  at  first  was  a 
serious  question.  He  did  not  wish  to  make  any 
mistakes,  and  he  now  realized  as  never  before  what 
a  contract  of  this  sort  really  meant.  Like  every 
other  piece  of  business,  the  thing  looked  easy  enough 
at  a  distance,  but  when  one  drew  closer  the  details, 
which  had  before  seemed  of  small  account,  now 
became  the  essentials. 

When  putting  in  his  bid  he  had  been  afraid  that 


'Twixt  Business  and  Something  Else    65 

the  price  was  too  low,  for  he  had  placed  the  figures 
down  "to  the  limit"  in  order  to  obtain  the  contract. 
But  the  bids  of  the  others  assured  him  that  his  own 
was  only  fair,  and  that  if  he  went  to  work  properly 
he  could  make  a  handsome  profit  on  the  job. 

"Breen  was  only  two  thousand  higher,"  he  rea- 
soned. "And  he  must  have  calculated  to  make  ten 
or  fifteen  thousand  clear,  on  the  job,  if  not  more. 
If  I  can't  put  it  through  and  clear  ten  thousand  or 
more  I'd  better  give  up  the  business."  Cole  had 
told  him  he  ought  to  clear  at  least  fifteen  thousand 
dollars. 

Ross  had  already  communicated  with  the  lawyers 
in  Philadelphia,  and  now  he  telegraphed  that  he 
had  secured  the  contract.  In  reply  to  this  he  re- 
ceived a  visit  from  Mr.  Carton,  who  brought  with 
him  the  two  sealed-up  account  books. 

"I  must  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Goodwin,"  said  the 
lawyer.  "If  we  can  be  of  any  use  to  you  do  not 
fail  to  call  upon  us." 

Ross  found  the  account  books  of  great  interest, 
for  they  showed  how  John  Goodwin  had  worked 
out  more  than  one  large  contract,  and  what  he  had 
paid  various  employees  from  time  to  time.  The 
pages  of  the  books  were  filled  with  notes,  some  in 
ink  and  some  in  pencil,  suggestions  of  great  prac- 
tical value,  as  the  young  contractor  discovered  later. 


66        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

All  told,  the  volumes  represented  nearly  a  lifetime 
of  experience. 

"Poor  Uncle  John!"  he  murmured,  as  he  placed 
the  books  in  a  safe  place.  "It's  a  pity  he  couldn't 
have  lived  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  labors." 

The  bond  was  duly  filed  and  the  signed  contract 
given  to  Ross,  and  on  the  same  day  he  ran  down  to 
Jackson's  Point  to  see  how  the  work  was  progress- 
ing. He  found  Cole  in  charge,  while  O'Mara  was 
at  a  distance  sullenly  directing  another  portion  of 
the  work. 

"How  are  those  two  fellows  who  were  hurt  get- 
ting along?"  he  asked  Cole. 

"They're  doing  much  better  than  expected,"  was 
the  foreman's  reply.  "The  fellow  who  twisted  his 
ankle  will  be  out  in  a  day  or  two,  and  they  hope  the 
other  fellow  will  be  out  inside  a  week  or  ten  days." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  it  wasn't  any  more  serious,"  an- 
swered Ross.  "I'll  have  to  go  up  to  the  hospital 
and  see  them." 

"Had  another  row  with  O'Mara,"  announced  the 
foreman.  "When  I  got  here  he  wasn't  pushing 
things  at  all.  Any  old  time  is  good  enough  for 
him." 

"I'll  have  a  talk  with  him,"  answered  Ross, 
briefly. 

He  found  the  Irishman  among  a  gang  of  Italians 


'Twixt  Business  and  Something  Else    67 

who  were  piling  up  the  timbers  that  had  been  used 
in  shoring  up  the  sewer  trench.  He  was  sucking 
away  on  a  short  clay  pipe,  and  his  face  was  far 
from  cheerful. 

"Well,  how  does  it  go,  O'Mara?"  he  questioned, 
brightly. 

"Oh,  it's  goin'  all  right,  Mr.  Goodwin,"  was  the 
answer.  "But  I  can't  see  how  we  are  going  to  get 
out  of  here  by  Tuesday.  There's  a  week's  work 
ahead,  an'  more, 

"We've  got  to  get  out,"  answered  Ross,  firmly. 

O'Mara  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "It's  easy 
enough  to  say  so,  Mr.  Goodwin,  but  the  Dagoes  will 
do  just  so  much  work  an'  no  more.  Besides  that, 
I'm  pushin'  thim  to  the  limit  now." 

"Cole  doesn't  think  so." 

"Humph!  Larry  Cole  ain't  after  knowin'  every- 
thing  " 

"He  knows  a  good  deal,  O'Mara,  and  you  must 
remember  that  he  is  the  head  foreman." 

"That  means,  I  suppose,  that  I've  got  to  take 
orders  from  him." 

"You  have,  when  I  am  not  around,  and  so  has 
everybody  else  who  works  for  me." 

"All  right,  Mr.  Goodwin.  You're  the  boss.  But 
it  wasn't  that  way  when  your  uncle  was  aloive." 
O'Mara  puffed  away  harder  than  ever.  "If  ye 


68        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

push  thim  Dagoes  too  hard  they'll  all  be  after 
leavin',  mark  me  wurruds!" 

"I'll  risk  that.  One  thing  is  settled — this  job 
has  got  to  be  finished  up  by  Tuesday  night." 

Ross  walked  away  and  rejoined  Cole  once  more. 
The  foreman  was  directing  the  loading  of  some 
heavy  trucks  with  the  machinery  that  had  been  used 
on  the  job,  and  the  young  contractor  watched  him 
with  interest. 

"Lay  to  it  now,  boys !"  he  heard  Cole  call  sharply. 
"Step  up  lively  with  those  jacks.  Now  then,  Gorgi, 
tell  the  men  to  haul  around.  Steady  now,  all  of 
you!  Now  up  with  'em!  Up,  I  say,  up!" 

The  men  were  in  a  bunch  and  working  hard,  for 
they  knew  that  the  eyes  of  the  new  boss  were  on 
them.  Sometimes  they  were  awkward,  but  their 
willingness  made  up  for  this,  and  even  Cole  smiled 
to  see  the  work  going  on  at  such  a  lively  rate. 

"Your  gang  here  is  worth  two  of  O'Mara's  gang," 
observed  Ross,  when  the  tall  foreman  had  a  breath- 
ing spell. 

"Not  at  all,"  came  sharply  from  Cole.  "I'll 
take  that  other  crowd  and  get  just  as  much  work 
out  of  'em.  I  tell  you  it's  O'Mara.  He  don't  seem 
to  know  how  to  put  any  life  into  'em." 

"Perhaps  he  doesn't  want  to  know,"  answered 
Ross,  dryly.  "But  I've  been  talking  to  him,  and 


'Twixt  Business  and  Something  Else    69 

maybe  he'll  do  better  in  the  future.  I  told  him  he'd 
have  to  take  orders  from  you,  and  that  the  job  must 
be  finished  up  by  Tuesday  night." 

At  this  news  Cole  squinted  one  eye  suggestively. 

"I'll  bet  he  liked  that  a  whole  lot." 

"I  don't  care  if  he  did  or  not.  I  meant  what  I 
said." 

"Supposing  he  won't  take  orders  from  me?" 

"Then  I'll  discharge  him,  and  you  can  tell  him 
so.  I'm  willing  to  give  him  a  chance,  but  I  don't 
intend  to  take  too  much  from  him." 

Ross  had  come  down  to  gain  a  few  points  as  to 
how  the  work  was  really  done,  and  he  remained  in 
the  vicinity  the  best  part  of  two  hours.  While  there 
Larry  Cole  gave  him  a  list  of  the  things  needed  for 
the  opening  up  of  the  work  on  the  railroad,  and 
these  the  young  man  said  he  would  order  without 
delay. 

Monday  found  Ross  in  Harrisburg,  whither  he 
had  gone  to  make  purchases  of  certain  pieces  of 
machinery,  to  be  used  in  connection  with  some 
cinder  cars  the  railroad  company  were  to  furnish 
for  the  hauling  of  dirt. 

He  wanted  a  new  hoisting  engine,  and  also  some 
cable  and  an  overhead  traveler,  as  well  as  several 
dozen  new  picks  and  shovels.  A  new  drill  was  also 
needed,  but  he  resolved  to  order  that  later,  when 


70        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

he  had  made  certain  which  was  the  best  kind  to  pur- 
chase. He  was  willing  to  buy  everything  that  was 
necessary,  but  he  resolved  to  be  cautious  and  not 
throw  money  away. 

"I'll  show  them  that  I  can  put  this  through  on 
time  and  make  money  on  it  too,"  he  told  himself. 

Chance  made  him  pass  one  of  the  concert  halls 
of  the  city  during  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  and 
happening  to  glance  at  a  bill  posted  on  one  of  the 
boards,  his  eye  caught  the  name  of  Margaret  Poole. 
He  at  once  stopped  to  read  the  bill  in  detail. 

It  was  another  charity  concert,  given  under  the 
auspices  of  one  of  the  leading  charitable  organiza- 
tions of  the  city.  A  dozen  artists  were  to  appear, 
giving  both  vocal  and  instrumental  selections,  and 
a  well-known  humorist  was  also  to  assist.  The 
general  admission  was  a  dollar,  with  reserved  seats 
considerably  higher,  and  the  whole  indications  were 
that  it  would  be  a  very  swell  affair.  He  glanced 
at  the  date. 

"The  seventh!  Why  that  is  tonight!"  he  mur- 
mured to  himself.  "Tonight!  I  wonder  if  I  had 
better — oh,  pshaw,  what's  the  use?  She  wouldn't 
care  if  I  was  there  or  not." 

Nevertheless,  after  that  Ross  found  it  very  hard 
to  buckle  his  mind  down  to  the  remaining  business 
on  hand.  This  took  him  until  after  six  o'clock,  and 


'Twixt  Business  and  Something  Else    71 

then  he  discovered  that  he  was  tremendously  hun- 
gry and  needed  dinner. 

He  entered  a  restaurant,  and  while  waiting  for 
his  order  to  appear,  consulted  a  time-table  of  trains 
to  Durham.  There  was  one  at  seven-thirty,  one  at 
eight-forty  and  another  at  eleven-fifteen. 

"It's  all  foolishness;  I  had  better  take  the  seven- 
thirty  and  get  to  bed  to-night,"  he  told  himself. 
"The  concert  won't  amount  to  much.  Besides,  I'm 
not  dressed  to  attend  such  an  affair." 

But  the  more  he  tried  to  persuade  himself  that 
he  should  go  home  the  more  he  hesitated.  He  could 
get  a  clean  shave,  and  a  new  collar  and  tie,  and  have 
his  shoes  blackened,  and  his  black  suit  would  slip 
through  in  a  crowd.  He  could  remain  at  the  rear 
of  the  auditorium  where  nobody  would  notice  him. 
He  just  wanted  to  see  her  appear  and  sing  one  song, 
that  was  all. 

And  thus  he  surrendered,  and  went  to  face  fate. 


CHAPTER  VII 
O'MARA  SHOWS  HIS  HAND 

THE  concert  hall  was  a  blaze  of  light  when  Ross 
entered.  The  place  was  filling  up  fast,  and  the  scent 
of  flowers  and  perfumes  filled  the  air.  Around  the 
front  of  the  stage  stood  a  row  of  beautiful  palms. 

The  majority  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  in 
full  dress,  and  for  once  in  his  life  the  young  col- 
lege graduate  felt  strangely  out  of  place.  He  took 
a  seat  in  a  far  corner  and  was  rather  glad  when 
several  ordinary  looking  folks  came  and  took  chairs 
beside  and  in  front  of  him,  thus  hiding  him  still 
further  from  view. 

The  ushers  were  members  of  the  charitable  or- 
ganization. Ross  had  met  several  of  them  on  social 
occasions  some  years  back.  None  of  them  recog- 
nized him,  for  which  he  was  thankful.  They  were 
what  Cole  would  have  called  "society  dudes,"  and 
he  smiled  grimly  to  himself  as  he  thought  of  them 
and  then  of  himself  and  of  the  work  on  the  outlet 
sewer  and  the  railroad. 

"Some  of  those  fellows  will  think  the  gulf  be- 
tween us  as  wide  as  the  Mississippi,"  he  reasoned. 

Presently  a  dapper  young  fellow,  dressed  in  the 
72 


O'Mara  Shows  His  Hand  73 

height  of  style,  came  in  the  door  just  behind  him. 
At  once  the  usher  standing  near  greeted  the  new- 
comer. 

"How  d'ye  do,  Parmalee!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Thought  I'd  see  you.  You're  late." 

"Just  left  Miss  Poole  at  the  stage  door,"  replied 
Parmalee.  "You  see,  she  came  over  from  Durham 
with  me." 

"Lucky  dog." 

"Thanks." 

"You  haven't  set  any  date  yet,  have  you?"  in  a 
lower  voice. 

"Oh,  come  now,  Devere,  that's  going  too  far. 
But  she's  a  charming  girl,  I  tell  you,  charming." 

"That's  right." 

"And  her  singing — but  you'll  hear  it  later.  Where 
is  this  seat  ?  I  might  as  well  settle  down  before  the 
concert  starts."  And  then  the  pair  passed  out  of 
Ross'  hearing. 

Ross  looked  at  Parmalee  curiously.  At  first  he 
had  been  unable  to  place  the  dapper  young  man,  but 
now  he  remembered  him. 

Paul  Parmalee  was  the  son  of  a  Harrisburg 
physician,  and  had  himself  studied  medicine.  He 
had  graduated  from  college  a  year  before,  and  after 
a  brief  trip  abroad  had  come  to  Durham  and  opened 
an  office  in  the  fashionable  portion  of  the  town. 


74        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

Since  the  death  of  his  uncle  Ross  had  not  met 
the  young  doctor,  but  he  had  heard  of  him,  and 
knew  that  he  moved  in  the  highest  of  local  society. 

There  was  just  a  trace  of  jealousy  shot  through 
his  heart  as  Parmalee  disappeared  from  view  and 
the  concert  began,  with  a  solo  by  a  well-known 
violinist. 

Ross  remembered  that  other  concert  and  how  he 
might  have  accompanied  Margaret  had  he  chosen 
to  do  so.  Now  she  had  come  with  the  doctor. 

"I  wonder  if  Parmalee  is  trying  to  shine  up  to 
her?"  he  asked  himself.  "It  would  be  just  like 
him  to  try  to  do  it,"  and  he  gritted  his  teeth  and 
heaved  a  sigh. 

He  looked  at  the  program  and  saw  there  were 
three  numbers  before  Margaret  would  appear.  The 
time  dragged  heavily  through  those  numbers  and,  if 
the  truth  must  be  told,  he  paid  little  or  no  attention 
to  them,  although  he  clapped  mechanically  when  he 
saw  those  around  him  applauding. 

When  she  finally  did  appear  and  came  sweeping 
to  the  front  of  the  stage  with  a  graceful  bow  he 
drew  a  deep  breath  and  his  heart  almost  stopped 
beating. 

She  was  dressed  in  white,  with  a  string  of  pearls 
around  her  neck,  and  a  white  rose  in  her  soft,  fluffy 
hair.  There  was  a  faint  tinge  of  color  in  her 


O'Mara  Shows  His  Hand  75 

cheeks,  and  never  had  she  looked  more  winsome 
or  more  beautiful. 

"She's  the  finest  looking  girl  in  the  world!"  was 
his  opinion.  "The  very  finest!" 

The  song  was  a  classic,  rather  difficult,  but  she 
appeared  to  have  no  trouble  in  singing  it  to  the  en- 
tire satisfaction  of  the  audience,  and  the  applause 
was  so  great  that  an  encore  was  necessary,  and 
then  she  gave  them  a  simple  ballad  that  seemed  to 
fairly  sink  into  Ross'  soul  as  he  hung  on  every  note 
that  poured  forth  from  her  snowy  throat.  He 
stared  like  one  in  a  dream,  with  no  thought  of 
clapping,  and  it  was  not  until  she  had  disappeared 
from  view  that  he  aroused  himself. 

Then  he  felt  he  must  have  air,  and  left  the  con- 
cert hall,  forgetting  to  ask  for  a  return  check. 

"What  a  face!  What  a  voice!  Oh,  Margaret!" 
The  words  sprang  to  his  lips  unconsciously. 

He  walked  several  blocks  before  he  fairly  knew 
what  he  was  doing.  What  had  he  lost  by  displeas- 
ing her?  How  could  he  hope  for  anything  from 
one  who  could  sing  like  that,  look  like  that?  And 
he  only  a  contractor,  a  maker  of  roadbeds  for  rail- 
roads? Had  he  not  better  give  up  that  job,  after 
all;  give  it  up  and  put  his  college  training  to  higher 
use? 

His  thoughts  became  a  torture  to  him,  and  it  was 


76        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

in  the  full  height  of  his  bitterness  that  he  all  at  once 
found  himself  standing  in  front  of  the  window  of 
a  fashionable  florist.  In  that  window  were  dis- 
played a  great  bunch  of  white  carnations.  He 
gazed  at  them  and  thought  of  how  he  had  once 
given  her  a  similar  bunch,  when  they  were  going 
to  a  fashionable  harvest  home  at  the  Durham 
church. 

A  sudden  idea  struck  him,  and  almost  before 
he  knew  it  he  had  purchased  the  white  carnations 
and  a  ribbon  to  go  around  them,  and  had  obtained 
a  blank  card  from  the  florist.  On  this  he  wrote, 
after  a  moment's  thought,  "From  an  old  friend," 
putting  it  below  her  name. 

"This  is  to  go  around  to  the  concert  hall,"  he 
said,  to  the  man  behind  the  counter.  "Send  it  at 
once,  and  tell  the  ushers  to  present  it  when  Miss 
Poole  sings.  If  they  ask  who  sent  it  say  you  don't 
know."  And  the  florist  agreed  to  everything. 

Ross  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  not  to  go  back, 
but  half  an  hour  later  found  him  in  his  old  seat, 
having  purchased  another  ticket  of  admission. 

From  the  talk  around  him  he  discovered  that 
Margaret  had  made  the  hit  of  the  evening,  and  when 
she  came  out  to  sing  again  the  applause  was  tremen- 
dous. Then  his  bunch  of  white  carnations  was 
handed  up,  along  with  another  bouquet  and  a  bas- 


O'Mara  Shows  His  Hand  77 

ket  of  flowers,  the  latter  he  felt  sure  coming  from 
Doctor  Parmalee. 

The  song  was  another  classic  and  the  encore  an- 
other ballad,  and  once  more  Ross  was  entranced, 
both  by  the  face  and  the  voice.  To  him  this  vision 
was  almost  supernatural.  Margaret  was  not  as  she 
had  been,  but  something  more  ethereal,  more  lovable 
than  ever  before. 

He  left  the  hall  as  soon  as  the  song  was  over  and 
she  had  bowed  herself  out  of  sight. 

He  went  straight  to  the  depot,  to  discover  that 
he  must  wait  half  an  hour  for  the  train.  Dropping 
in  a  seat  in  the  smoking  room,  he  drew  out  his  bull- 
dog, filled  and  lit  it,  and  gave  himself  up  to  his 
reflections. 

They  were  of  a  kaleidoscopic  character,  impos- 
sible to  analyze. 

At  one  moment  he  felt  he  must  turn  over  the  rail- 
road contract  to  Cole,  and  go  in  for  something  else, 
or  perhaps  go  abroad;  at  the  next  he  set  his  teeth 
hard  on  the  pipe  stem  and  determined  to  stick  to 
what  he  was  doing,  regardless  of  what  she  might 
think  of  him.  And  then  a  vision  of  his  late  uncle 
crossed  his  mind,  and  he  determined  to  go  ahead 
as  he  had  begun,  and  she  might  like  it  or  not,  as 
she  pleased.  But  oh!  if  only  he  might  make  sure 
of  winning  her  in  the  end! 


78        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

From  the  smoking  room  of  the  station  he  drifted 
out  on  the  platform  and  was  walking  up  and  down 
in  deep  meditation  when  a  round,  hearty,  but  girl- 
ish, voice  hailed  him. 

"A  penny  for  your  thoughts,  Ross  Goodwin. 
It's  a  wonder  you  wouldn't  speak  to  an  old  friend." 

He  looked  up  somewhat  startled,  to  find  himself 
confronted  by  a  heavy-set,  good-natured  looking 
girl  about  his  own  age.  She  wore  a  smart  tailor- 
made  suit  and  carried  a  black  Gladstone  in  her 
hand. 

"Why,  hello,  Jennie!  Glad  to  see  you,"  he  re- 
turned pleasantly,  and  shook  hands.  "I  was  won- 
dering only  the  other  day  what  had  become  of  my 
school  chum  of  former  days." 

"Oh,  yes!  A  heap  you've  been  thinking  about 
me !"  scoffed  Jennie  Martinson.  "With  your  hands 
full  of  this  contracting  business  your  uncle  left  you, 
not  to  say  anything  about  his  fortune,  I  rather  had 
an  idea  you  wouldn't  look  at  common  people  after 
this,"  and  the  girl  laughed  good-naturedly. 

"Common  people!  Why,  Jennie,  don't  I  belong 
to  the  common  people — running  this  contracting 
business?" 

"Oh,  you're  a  capitalist,  and  that  makes  a  big 
difference.  But  really,  Ross,"  went  on  the  girl, 
"now  you  got  that  contract,  I  hope  you'll  make  a 


O'Mara  Shows  His  Hand  79 

barrel  of  money  out  of  it.  But  doesn't  it  seem 
awfully  different  from  being  a  student  at  Yale?" 

"It  sure  does,  Jennie.  But  on  the  other  hand, 
doesn't  it  seem  different  to  you  to  be  a  regular 
registered  trained  nurse  instead  of  just  a  jolly,  care- 
free high-school  girl?" 

"Well,  I  should  say!"  burst  out  the  young  trained 
nurse.  "If  I  had  ever  known  when  I  went  into 
this  nursing  game  what  I  was  going  to  be  up  against, 
I  don't  know  that  I  would  have  tackled  it.  Of 
course,  ordinary  nursing  isn't  so  bad;  but  once  in 
a  while  I  get  a  case  that  nearly  drives  me 
wild." 

"I  suppose  you  won't  object  to  nursing  me  if  ever 
I  get  sick?"  Ross  went  on  lightly.  He  had  known 
Jennie  Martinson  ever  since  childhood,  and  had 
always  considered  her  a  good  chum. 

"I'd  nurse  you  if  you'd  trust  me  not  to  put  you 
in  the  cemetery,"  returned  Jennie  gayly.  And 
then,  after  both  had  laughed  over  this,  she  added: 
"I  understand  some  of  those  other  contractors  are 
terribly  angry  because  you  got  that  railroad  con- 
tract away  from  them." 

"Oh,  well,  that's  part  of  the  game,  and  I'm  not 
complaining." 

"My  dad  was  pleased  over  it.  He  hasn't  any 
use  for  that  Mike  Breen  and  that  Ike  Shacker." 


80        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Well,  they're  not  men  that  I  would  choose  for 
my  friends." 

"I  understand  that  Breen  went  around  say- 
ing  "  Jennie  Martinson  broke  off  short.  "Oh, 

see  who's  here!  Say,  Ross,  do  you  think  that  pair 
are  going  to  hit  it  off  together?"  she  questioned,  in 
a  lower  tone. 

Her  eyes  were  directed  to  where  a  taxicab  had 
rolled  up  to  the  depot  platform.  From  this  Doctor 
Parmalee  sprang,  and  then  assisted  Margaret  Poole 
to  alight.  The  doctor  caught  sight  of  Ross,  and, 
bowing  stiffly,  hurried  Margaret  up  the  platform 
and  into  the  station.  The  doctor  carried  the  basket 
of  flowers  and  one  of  the  bouquets,  but  not  the 
bunch  of  white  carnations  which  Ross  had  pur- 
chased. That  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

"Oh,  I  thought  they  might  stop  and  speak  to  us," 
remarked  Jennie  Martinson  in  a  disappointed  tone 
of  voice. 

She,  too,  had  gone  to  school  with  Margaret,  and 
through  her  vocation  as  a  trained  nurse  was  fairly 
well  acquainted  with  the  young  physician. 

"I  don't  think  Margaret  saw  us,"  answered  the 
young  contractor.  "And  I  rather  imagine  Parmalee 
doesn't  care  very  much  for  me." 

"I  don't  think  he  cares  for  anybody  but  himself," 
was  the  young  nurse's  flat  reply.  "I  don't  like  to 


O'Mara  Shows  His  Hand  81 

work  under  him  at  all.  The  other  doctors  are  all 
very  pleasant,  but  Doctor  Parmalee  acts  just  as  if 
the  nurses  were  slaves." 

Presently  the  train  rolled  in,  and  as  Jennie  was 
going  to  her  home  in  Durham  there  was  nothing 
for  Ross  to  do  but  to  assist  her  up  the  car  steps  and 
find  a  seat  for  both  of  them.  There  was  quite  a 
crowd  getting  on  board,  and,  in  the  midst  of  these 
people,  along  came  the  doctor  and  Margaret,  also 
looking  for  seats.  When  she  saw  the  others,  Mar- 
garet looked  somewhat  surprised,  but  she  bowed 
pleasantly  and  then  passed  on;  and  she  and  her 
companion  found  a  seat  at  the  far  end  of  the 
car. 

"He's  going  to  see  her  home,  and  she  didn't 
think  enough  of  my  flowers  to  bring  them  along," 
thought  Ross  bitterly.  "All  right,  let  them  go 
their  pace  and  I'll  go  mine,"  and  then  lie  did  his 
best  to  make  himself  pleasant  to  Jennie. 

"I  guess  the  doctor  has  got  his  eye  on  Margaret 
all  right  enough,"  was  the  blunt  comment  of  the 
trained  nurse.  "Well,  I  don't  know  as  he  could 
find  a  better  girl  anywhere.  Margaret  Poole  is 
as  good  as  they  make  'em." 

"She  sure  is,"  returned  Ross  quickly.  And  his 
reply  was  so  earnest  that  his  companion  looked  at 
him  rather  quizzically. 


82        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"I  used  to  think,  Ross,  that  you  were  rather 
struck  on  her  yourself,"  she  continued,  with  a  frank- 
ness that  took  away  any  suggestion  of  impudence. 

"I've  got  to  tend  to  my  business  affairs,  Jennie. 
I  haven't  got  time  to  think  of  the  girls,"  he  replied 
almost  roughly. 

"Oh,  you'll  get  caught  some  day,  when  the  right 
girl  comes  along,"  she  scoffed. 

"How  about  you  and  the  right  young  man?"  he 
returned  quickly. 

"The  right  young  man  has  got  to  have  a  barrel 
of  money,  or  I  shan't  look  at  him,"  returned  the 
nurse.  "Love  in  a  cottage  may  do  for  some  people, 
but  it  won't  do  for  me — not  as  long  as  I  can  earn 
my  twenty  per,"  and  she  smiled  broadly. 

When  the  train  arrived  at  Durham,  Ross  saw  the 
doctor  escort  Margaret  to  where  his  auto  was  in 
waiting,  and  the  two  rode  off  together.  Jerry  was 
on  hand  with  the  Goodwin  runabout. 

"I'll  take  you  up  to  your  house,  Jennie,  if  you 
won't  mind  crowding  in  on  the  seat,"  said  Ross. 

"Anything  is  better  than  walking,  and  if  I  have 
to,  I  can  sit  on  your,  lap,"  was  the  ready  response. 
And  then  the  two  squeezed  in  beside  Jerry  and 
started  off. 

Although  he  went  to  bed  at  one  o'clock,  it  was 
nearly  four  o'clock  before  the  young  contractor 


O'Mara  Shows  His  Hand  83 

dropped  into  a  troubled  doze.  While  he  slept  he 
dreamt  that  he  was  at  the  bottom  of  a  muddy 
trench,  in  workingman's  garb,  and  Margaret  was 
at  the  stop,  singing  a  classic  song,  and  pointing  a 
finger  of  derision  at  him. 

It  had  been  decided,  upon  the  advice  of  Cole,  to 
begin  the  work  on  the  railroad  at  Durham  rather 
than  at  Cressing,  although,  later  on,  two  gangs  of 
men  might  be  employed,  each  working  toward  the 
other. 

Some  material  had  already  been  sent  up  from 
Jackson's  Point,  and  directly  after  breakfast  the  next 
morning  the  young  contractor  rode  over  to  the 
spot,  to  see  that  everything  was  going  along 
smoothly. 

Gorgi,  the  Italian,  was  in  charge,  with  a  gang 
of  twenty-two,  known  only  to  Ross  by  their  num- 
bers. 

Matters  were  progressing  slowly,  and  it  was  evi- 
dent to  the  young  boss  that  something  was  amiss. 

"Da  men  worka  hard,  for  da  little  mon,"  said 
Gorgi,  in  reply  to  a  question  from  Ross.  "Notta 
worka  so  hard  for  da  Boss  Yon." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  answered  the  young 
contractor.  "They  always  worked  hard  when  I 
was  around — and  they  didn't  get  a  cent  more  than 
I  am  paying  them." 


84        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Worka  verra  hard,  gitta  little  mon,"  went  on 
Gorgi,  and  drew  a  long  sigh. 

At  that  moment  a  middle-aged  man  stepped  up  to 
Ross  and  touched  him  on  the  arm.  "Mr.  Goodwin, 
I  believe?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  Ross,  cheerily. 

"My  name  is  Lovel — I'm  from  the  Pittsburg 
Construction  Company.  Perhaps  you  remember 
me." 

"Oh,  yes,  we  met  when  this  contract  was  given 
out,"  and  Ross  shook  hands. 

"I'm  glad  you  got  the  contract,"  went  on  Lovel 
in  a  low  voice.  "I  mean  I'd  rather  see  you  get  it 
than  that  dirty  Breen  and  that  miser  of  a  Shacker. 
We  put  in  a  bid  because  the  railroad  asked  us  to — 
thought  Breen  and  Shacker  would  squeeze  'em,  now 
Mr.  Goodwin,  your  uncle,  was  gone."  Lovel  paused 
and  Ross  nodded.  "But  that  isn't  what  I  am  here 
for.  I  want  to  know  something  about  a  man  you've 
got— fellow  named  Pat  O'Mara.  Is  he  O.  K.  ?" 

The  young  contractor  was  interested  and  gazed 
sharply  at  his  questioner. 

"What  do  you  want  to  know  for?  Has  O'Mara 
applied  to  you  for  a  situation?" 

"I  reckon  that's  the  size  of  it.  The  boss  told  me 
to  look  him  up." 

"I  can't  say  much  about  him." 


O'Mara  Shows  His  Hand  85 

"Are  he  and  his  gang  going  to  help  you  on  this 
job?" 

"His  gang?  He  hasn't  any  gang.  I  placed  him 
in  charge  of  some  men,  that's  all." 

"Then  there  must  be  some  mistake.  He  said  he 
had  a  gang  of  about  twenty  men." 

"Oh,  he  did?  And  did  he  say  he  could  take 
those  men  with  him  if  he  left  here?" 

"I — er — that's  a  delicate  question  to  ask,  Mr. 
Goodwin.  Of  course,  if  you've  had  trouble  with 
him  and  the  men  under  him " 

"I  haven't  had  any  trouble  with  the  men,  but  I've 
had  trouble  with  O'Mara,  and  I  don't  propose  to 
have  any  more."  Ross  was  growing  angry.  "He's 
a  two-faced  fellow,  and  I  believe  he  tried  to  play  in 
with  Breen  against  me.  He  shall  have  his  walking 
papers  next  pay  day." 

"Then  you  won't  recommend  him?" 

"How  can  I?  He  understands  the  work,  and  he 
doesn't  drink  any  more  than  the  most  of  them. 
That's  all  I  can  say  in  his  favor." 

"If  he's  an  underhanded  rascal  we  shan't  want 
him." 

"Well,  that  is  your  lookout,  Mr.  Lovel,  not 
mine." 

"And  you  are  sure  about  those  men?" 

"I  think  I  am.     I'll  find  out  mighty  quick,  I  can 


86        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

tell  you  that.  If  he  has  been  tampering  with  my 
hired  help  there  will  be  music  in  the  air." 

Ross'  eyes  flashed  fire  as  he  spoke.  He  was 
thoroughly  aroused  and  his  indignation  fairly 
boiled  over  as  he  remembered  how  indifferent 
O'Mara  had  appeared  when  he  had  ordered  him  to 
put  through  the  work  on  the  outlet  sewer  on  time. 

"I  reckon  we  had  best  let  the  matter  drop  for 
the  present,"  said  Lovel,  and  shaking  hands  again, 
he  moved  off  and  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

ROSS  AND  HIS  ENEMIES 

WHEN  left  alone  Ross  remembered  that  Gorgi 
and  his  men  had  worked  under  O'Mara,  and  that 
Gorgi  had  seemed  to  be  much  dissatisfied  over  the 
present  situation.  With  a  view  of  taking  the  bull  by 
the  horns  without  delay,  and  especially  before 
O'Mara  appeared  on  the  scene,  the  young  contractor 
called  the  Italian  from  the  work. 

"See  here,  Gorgi,  I  want  to  talk  to  you,"  he  said, 
pleasantly. 

"All  right,  boss." 

"I  want  to  know  if  you  think  you  are  working 
for  me  or  for  Pat  O'Mara." 

At  this  the  Italian  looked  perplexed  for  a  mo- 
ment. 

"You  paya  da  mon,  but  Pat  O'Mara  he  say  he  da 
boss." 

"Is  that  what  he  told  you  and  those  fellows  over 
there?"  And  Ross  jerked  his  thumb  in  the  direc- 
tion. 

"Ye-as,  boss.  He  say  he  da  boss — he  no  letta 
you  cut  da  pay  down,  not  much !  He  say  you  cutta 
da  pay  ten  centa  da  day  nex'  week,  if  he  not  stop 

you." 

87 


88         Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"O'Mara  told  you  a  lie,  Gorgi.  I  have  never 
said  a  word  about  cutting  down  wages,  and  he 
knows  it.  I  expect  to  pay  the  present  wages  as  long 
as  this  job  lasts." 

The  Italian  looked  suspicious.  He  started  to 
speak,  hesitated,  and  then  broke  out : 

"Dat  not  all,  boss.  He  saya  you  losa  da  mon  on 
da  contrak,  you  bust  up,  da  poor  devil  Dago  he  got 
no  worka." 

"And  he  told  you  he  would  get  you  another  job 
—in  Pittsburg?" 

"He  says  som'thing  like  dat,  ye-as." 

"He  said  that  to  make  trouble  for  me,  Gorgi. 
I  shall  not  lose  money  on  this  contract,  if  you  and 
the  other  men  stick  to  me.  If  you  won't  stick  I'll 
get  men,  elsewhere.  I  don't  intend  to  lower  your 
pay.  Tell  that  to  the  other  men,  will  you?" 

"All  right,  boss.  You  saya  you  put  da  job 
f  rough  sure?" 

"Yes.    And  Gorgi,  how  much  do  you  get  now?" 

"Two  dol  twenty-fiva  da  day." 

"After  this  I'll  give  you  two  dollars  and  a  half 
a  day.  But  you  must  keep  those  other  men  from 
leaving  me,  do  you  understand?  Tell  them  that  I 
will  promise  to  give  them  work  so  long  as  this  job 
lasts  and  at  the  same  pay  they  are  now  getting." 

Gorgi's  eyes  glistened.     The  quarter  dollar  extra 


Ross  and  His  Enemies  89 

a  day  looked  very  large  in  his  eyes.  He  was  at 
heart  a  good  fellow,  and  he  promised  faithfully  to 
do  all  he  could  for  the  new  boss. 

"No  can  maka  all  da  mans  stay,"  he  said.  "Two 
or  three  go,  maybe,  but  da  udders  da  stay  sure, 
now." 

"All  right;  and  get  them  to  work  a  little  faster 
if  you  can,"  answered  Ross,  and  this  Gorgi  prom- 
ised likewise. 

Ross  had  not  expected  to  see  O'Mara  again  that 
day,  but  his  indignation  over  the  way  this  under 
foreman  had  acted  would  not  let  him  wait,  and  he 
leaped  on  the  first  train  going  down  to  Jackson's 
Point,  and  rode  over  to  the  works  on  one  of  the 
construction  wagons.  Cole  saw  him  coming  and 
surmised  at  once  that  something  was  wrong. 

"I  was  afraid  of  it,"  said  Cole,  after  hearing 
the  news.  "The  skunk!  He  ought  to  be  kicked 
full  of  holes!" 

"Is  he  here?" 

"He  was  half  an  hour  ago.  I  think  he  has  gone 
up  to  the  saloon  at  the  crossroads." 

"All  right,  I'll  go  up  after  him.  Such  a  rascal 
as  that,  Cole,  can't  stay  in  my  employ  another 
hour." 

"You'd  better  go  slow.  He  may  have  more  of  a 
hold  on  those  Italians  than  you  imagine.  We  can't 


90         Making  Good  With  Margaret 

talk  to  the  Dagoes,  and  he  can  tell  them  anything 
through  one  of  his  mouthpieces." 

"I  don't  care — I'll  not  put  up  with  him,"  re- 
turned Ross,  firmly. 

The  saloon  Cole  had  mentioned  was  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  away,  located  where  two  of  the  country 
roads  crossed  each  other.  It  did  not  take  him  long 
to  reach  the  place,  and  without  hesitation  he  en- 
tered the  long,  low  barroom,  with  its  dirty  tables 
and  sanded  floor,  and  looked  around. 

The  sight  that  met  his  gaze  surprised  him  not  a 
little.  At  a  table  in  a  far  corner  sat  O'Mara,  Breen 
and  Shacker,  talking  earnestly.  All  had  been  drink- 
ing, and  the  empty  whisky  glasses  rested  before 
them. 

"We've  simply  got  to  do  it,"  Shacker  was  saying. 

"The  railroad  will  give  the  job "  And  then  he 

caught  sight  of  Ross,  and  his  mouth  closed  as 
tightly  as  a  mousetrap. 

Both  O'Mara  and  Breen  followed  the  direction 
of  Shacker's  eyes,  and  both  gazed  at  Ross  in  con- 
sternation. O'Mara  was  much  disconcerted,  but 
tried  to  put  on  a  bold  front. 

"Did  you  want  me,  Mr.  Goodwin?"  he  asked, 
rising.  "I  just  stepped  in  to  get  a  glass.  Work  at 
the  point  is  dry  and  dusty." 

"Yes,  I  did  want  you,"  answered  the  young  con- 


Ross  and  His  Enemies  91 

tractor,  steadily.  He  noticed  that  Shacker  had 
been  doing  some  figuring  on  a  sheet  of  paper,  and 
now  thrust  the  paper  hastily  in  his  pocket. 

Ross  moved  toward  the  door  of  the  barroom, 
and  O'Mara  followed,  with  a  back  wink  at  the 
others.  Breen  jumped  up  and  came  forward. 

"Have  a  drink  with  us  before  you  go,  Mr.  Good- 
win!" he  cried. 

"That's  it !"  put  in  Shacker.    "What  shall  it  be  ?" 

"Thank  you,  gentlemen,  but  I  don't  care  for  it 
just  now." 

"Oh,  just  one,  to  show  there  is  no  ill-will,"  in- 
sisted Breen. 

"We  don't  bear  any  grudge,"  put  in  Shacker. 
"You  won  out  fair  and  square  enough.  What  shall 
it  be,  whisky,  or  do  you  prefer  beer?" 

"I  prefer  nothing,"  answered  Ross  as  coldly  as 
before.  "Come,  O'Mara,  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 
And  he  led  the  way  outside,  while  the  barkeeper 
grumbled  openly  at  a  man  who  would  come  in  so 
unceremoniously  and  then  not  help  trade  along. 

"Is  it  about  the  work?"  asked  O'Mara,  when 
they  were  in  the  road. 

"No,  it's  about  you,  O'Mara.  What  I've  got  to 
say  won't  take  long.  You  can  consider  yourself 
discharged  from  this  moment  I  don't  want  you 
around  the  work  any  more." 


92         Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Yes,  but  see  here,  my  time " 

"Your  time  is  up  this  instant.  I  wouldn't  have 
you  around  longer  if  you  paid  me  to  stay.  On 
Saturday  you  can  draw  your  pay  for  the  week.  I 
could  cut  you  short,  but  I  won't  go  to  the  bother 
of  it." 

The  Irishman's  face  grew  dark  and  sour. 

"So  that's  what  a  man  gets  for  only  taking  a 
sociable  glass  with  a  couple  of  friends,  who  would 
be  friends  to  you,  too,  if  you'd  let  thim,"  he 
growled. 

"I  wasn't  thinking  about  that,  O'Mara,  although 
you  had  no  right  to  be  loafing  in  time  that  belongs 
to  me.  I  know  what  you've  been  up  to — how  you 
tried  to  help  Breen  get  that  contract,  and  how  you 
were  going  to  try  to  get  the  men  to  desert  and  go 
with  you  to  the  Pittsburg  Construction  Company." 

"It  ain't  so.  I  didn't  help  Mike  Breen !"  roared 
the  other,  but  his  face  showed  that  he  was  much  dis- 
turbed. 

"You  did,  and  perhaps  I  can  prove  it  if  I'm  put 
to  it.  O'Mara,  you're  a  snake  in  the  grass." 

"Oh,  ye  needn't  be  after  throwin'  compliments  at 
me.  If  I'm  discharged  I  reckon  I  can  stand  it. 
I  lived  before  I  ever  knew  you,  or  your  uncle 
either!" 

"I  presume  you  did,  but  you  won't  occupy  any 


Ross  and  His  Enemies  93 

position  of  importance  in  the   future  if  you  are 
going  to  act  in  this  manner." 

"That  means  that  you  won't  give  me  a  recom- 
mendation?" with  a  sneer.  "All  right,  Mr.  Good- 
win, I'm  after  thinkin'  I  can  get  along  without  it 
from  such  a  person  as  you.  What  do  you  know 
about  contract  work,  anyhow?  Nothing  at  all, 
with  all  av  your  book  wurruk."  When  O'Mara 
grew  excited  his  accent  was  stronger  than  ever. 
"Yez  can  go  to  the  divil  wid  yer  job!" 

"One  word  more,  O'Mara,"  went  on  Ross,  trying 
to  remain  calm.  "If  you  know  when  you  are  well 
off,  you'll  leave  my  workmen  alone." 

"Phat  are  yez  after  meanin'  by  that?" 

"I  mean  that  I  won't  allow  you  to  hang  around 
and  try  to  get  them  to  quit  for  another  job.  If 
you  do  come  around  I'll  have  you  placed  under 
arrest." 

"Yez  can't  arrist  me  fer  talkin'  to  a  man." 

"That's  according  to  how  you  look  at  it.  Any- 
way, I  can  swear  out  a  warrant,  and  then  we'll  see 
what  comes  of  it.  I  think  I  can  make  a  pretty  good 
showing  in  court  if  I'm  put  to  it." 

"Wid  yer  money,  I  suppose,"  sneered  the  dis- 
charged one.  "Well,  don't  git  worried,  I  won't 
hurt  ye.  But  the  contract  is  goin'  to  ruin  ye  right 
enough.  Don't  fergit  that,  an'  remember  Pat 


94        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

O'Mara  told  ye!"  And  with  a  swagger  he  turned 
on  his  heel  and  re-entered  the  road  house. 

From  behind  one  of  the  partly  drawn  shades 
Breen,  Shacker  and  the  discharged  foreman 
watched  Ross  depart  as  rapidly  as  he  had  come. 
As  his  business-like  figure  disappeared  around  a 
bend  of  the  road  O'Mara  muttered  an  imprecation 
under  his  breath. 

"So  he  has  thrown  you  down,  eh?"  said  Shacker. 

"Did  yez  hear  the  talk?"  demanded  O'Mara. 

"Yes,  we  heard  it  all,"  answered  Breen.  "Why 
not?  Both  of  you  talked  loud  enough." 

"He's  a  high-flyer,"  sneered  the  ex-foreman. 

"Not  at  all,  Pat,"  came  calmly  from  Shacker. 
"He  did  exactly  what  Breen,  or  I,  or  yourself 
would  do  under  similar  circumstances.  You  got 
found  out,  that's  all,  and  you  had  to  take  your 
dose  of  medicine,"  and  the  contractor  laughed 
harshly. 

"It's  a  shame  Pat  didn't  get  out  and  take  the 
gang  of  men  with  him,"  came  from  Breen.  "Hi, 
Dave,  give  us  another  round  of  whisky.  I'll  put  a 
shingle  on  the  roof  even  if  that  dude  of  a  Goodwin 
won't." 

"I  ain't  sayin'  that  I  can't  git  the  men  yit,"  said 
O'Mara,  as  he  cooled  down  a  little. 

"Did  Gorgi  say  he'd  stick  by  you?" 


Ross  and  His  Enemies  95 

"He  said  he'd  see  about  it,  and  talk  it  over  wid 
the  rest  o'  the  Dagoes." 

"This  takes  another  spoke  out  of  your  wheel," 
said  Shacker,  as  the  liquor  was  brought.  "But  we 
have  got  to  do  something;  eh,  Breen?" 

"To  be  sure."  The  liquor  was  downed  at  a  single 
toss.  "And  we  can't  be  after  waitin'  too  long 
either." 

"What  was  this  you  was  sayin'  about  another 
railroad  contract,  just  before  he  came  in?"  asked 
O'Mara. 

"I  got  word  of  it  yesterday,"  answered  Shacker. 
"It  came  out  through  Sam  Flood,  the  freight  agent, 
who  is  a  particular  friend  of  mine.  He  says  he 
heard  Sanderson  and  the  others  talking  it  over. 
They  are  going  to  make  some  big  improvements 
next  year  and  the  year  after,  and  they  as  much  as 
settled  to  give  Goodwin  the  jobs,  if  he  puts  this 
contract  through  and  in  good  shape." 

"At  that  rate  he'll  be  gettin'  everything  an'  our 
business  will  be  ruined,"  observed  Breen. 

"That's  the  way  I  look  at  it,  and  that's  why  I 
said  we  must  prevent  him  from  putting  this  con- 
tract through  on  time.  If  he  loses  his  twenty  thou- 
sand forfeit  he'll  feel  sore  all  over,  and  most  likely 
he'll  go  out  of  business." 

"Then  we  must  make  him  lose  it,"  came  solemnly 


96        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

from  Breen.  "I've  got  no  use  for  a  college  dude 
that  won't  even  drink  wid  me." 

"If  you  can  plan  anything  to  make  him  lose,  I'll 
help  ye  to  put  it  through,"  put  in  O'Mara.  "I 
don't  care  what  it  is  either.  I'll  show  him  that  he 
can't  trample  on  me  f er  nuthin' !  And  he  brought 
his  fist  down  on  the  table  so  that  the  glasses  rattled. 

Shacker  closed  one  eye  suggestively  and  looked 
around  to  make  sure  that  the  barkeeper  was  not 
listening.  Then  he  leaned  forward. 

"I've  got  a  plan,"  he  whispered.  "Both  of  you 
stand  by  me,  and  I'll  put  Goodwin  in  such  a  hole 
that  he'll  never  get  out  of  it!" 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  BLOW  IN  THE  DARK 

FOR  over  a  week  everything  on  the  railroad  con- 
tract went  along  swimmingly.  Ross  settled  down 
to  the  work  with  a  will,  and  was  here,  there  and 
elsewhere,  whenever  occasion  required.  The  days 
spent  at  Yale  seemed  to  fade  from  view  rapidly, 
and,  though  the  learning  remained,  to  prove  exceed- 
ingly useful  to  him,  the  college  atmosphere  became 
a  thing  of  the  past.  He  was  "in  business,"  in  the 
strict  meaning  of  that  expression,  and  he  stuck 
to  his  post  with  a  faithfulness  that  was  astonishing 
when  one  considered  his  past  and  how  he  had 
pleased  only  himself  in  most  of  the  things  he  had 
done. 

"I  feel  as  if  I  was  just  waking  up,"  he  said  to 
Larry  Cole  one  day,  in  a  burst  of  confidence.  "I 
was  a  dreamer  before.  I  hadn't  a  real,  definite  idea 
in  my  head." 

"Take  my  advice  and  don't  overwork  yourself 
at  the  start,"  answered  the  foreman.  "You've  been 
driving  like  an  engine  the  past  few  days." 

"I  want  to  see  this  contract  started,  Cole.  It 
looks  to  me  as  if  we  had  but  just  begun." 

97 


98        Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Don't  get  worried,  Mr.  Goodwin;  it's  that  way 
at  first  on  every  big  job.  A  fellow  has  to  kind  of 
feel  his  way.  Just  remember,  a  minister  can't  sit 
down  and  write  a  sermon  until  he's  walked  the 
floor  and  thought  over  what  he  wants  to  put  down." 
And  this  caused  Ross  to  smile  broadly,  knowing 
that  sermons  were  entirely  out  of  Cole's  line, 
although  the  man  attended  church  regularly. 

There  was  more  behind  Ross'  activity  than  he 
cared  to  acknowledge  to  himself.  He  had  not  for- 
gotten the  concert  at  Harrisburg,  nor  how  beautiful 
Margaret  had  looked  and  how  superbly  she  had 
sung.  Nor  had  he  forgotten  Doctor  Parmalee  and 
the  trip  on  the  train. 

"Hang  it  all,"  he  murmured  to  himself.  "Why 
can't  she  look  at  this  contracting  business  as  I  do  ?" 

One  day  business  took  Ross  to  the  village  of 
Clankerton  about  fifteen  miles  away.  As  Jerry  was 
away  on  another  errand  at  the  time,  he  ran  the 
runabout  himself.  He  had  to  stop  at  a  drugstore 
before  leaving  town,  and  there  he  ran  into  Jennie 
Martinson  and  also  another  girl,  Ethel  Bywith  by 
name. 

Miss  Bywith  was  comparatively  a  newcomer  in 
Durham,  having  lived  there  but  six  months;  but 
Ross  had  met  her  twice,  and  found  her  almost  as 
pleasant  as  Jennie.  Both  girls  had  attended  the 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  99 

same  classes  in  nursing,  and  had  graduated  from 
the  same  hospital. 

"Oh,  dear,  I  just  wish  I  were  a  rich  contractor, 
to  do  nothing  but  ride  around,"  remarked  Jennie, 
after  the  greetings  were  over.  "Here  I've  got  to 
go  down  to  old  Mrs.  Pell's  and  listen  to  the  story 
of  all  her  aches  and  pains  for  at  least  the  tenth 
time,  while  you  go  riding  around  the  country  in  this 
beautiful  weather." 

"I'm  going  down  past  the  Pell  place,  and  I'll  take 
you  along  if  you  want  me  to,"  returned  Ross.  "I'm 
on  my  way  to  Clankerton." 

"Oh!  are  you  really  going  to  Clankerton?"  burst 
out  Ethel  Bywith  eagerly. 

"Yes.     Why?" 

"Oh,  I  thought But  never  mind,  most  likely 

you  are  in  a  hurry." 

"She  was  going  to  Clankerton  this  afternoon  to 
visit  her  aunt,"  explained  Jennie. 

"I  see."  Ross  hesitated  for  a  moment.  "I  can't 
wait  very  well  until  afternoon,  but  if  you  would 
like  to  go  this  morning  I  would  be  pleased  to  take 
you,"  he  went  on. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  hesitated  the  young  trained 
nurse. 

"Oh,  go  ahead,  Ethel!  It  will  be  a  splendid 
ride,"  burst  out  Jennie. 


100      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Well,  if  I  won't  be  putting  you  out,  Mr.  Good- 
win," went  on  the  other  girl.  She  was  not  nearly  as 
free-spoken  as  her  companion,  and,  besides,  she 
felt  as  though  she  hardly  knew  the  young  contrac- 
tor. 

"Why,  you  won't  put  me  out  at  all.  I'd  like  first- 
rate  to  have  your  company.  How  soon  can  you  get 
ready?"  Ross  consulted  his  watch.  "It's  half  past 
nine  now." 

"Oh,  I  can  be  ready  by  ten  o'clock — or  maybe 
before  that  if  you  won't  mind  taking  me  around 
to  my  boarding  place,"  was  the  reply. 

The  upshot  of  the  matter  was  that  ten  o'clock 
found  Ross  and  his  fair  companion  riding  out  of 
Durham  on  the  shady  and  somewhat  hilly  road  run- 
ning to  Clankerton.  As  Jenie  Martinson  had  said, 
it  was  a  beautiful  day,  with  a  clear,  blue  sky  over 
head  and  just  enough  breeze  blowing  to  take  away 
the  effects  of  the  summer  sun. 

Now  that  she  was  on  the  way  with  Ross,  Ethel 
Bywith  thought  it  no  more  than  fair  to  do  her  best 
to  entertain  the  young  man  who  was  giving  her 
this  ride.  Although  somewhat  shy  at  first,  she  soon 
warmed  up  and  proved  herself  to  be  quite  witty, 
and  more  than  one  of  her  remarks  caused  Ross  to 
laugh  heartily,  and,  for  the  time  being,  he  forgot 
his  business  cares. 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  101 

"I  wish  I  were  an  artist.  I  would  like  to  sketch 
some  of  these  beautiful  views,"  remarked  the  young 
trained  nurse,  as  they  swept  around  a  bend  in  the 
road  and  crossed  a  bridge  over  a  brook. 

"I've  often  thought  I'd  like  to  paint  some  of 
these  scenes  myself,"  returned  Ross.  "They  are 
beautiful  at  this  time  of  year,  but  doubly  so  in  the 
Fall  after  a  sharp  frost  has  touched  the  leaves  and 
turned  them  to  red  and  gold.  Just  at  the  top  of  the 
next  hill  there  is  a  particularly  fine  view.  I'll 
point  it  out  to  you  when  we  get  there." 

The  runabout  chugged  slowly  up  the  hill,  the 
young  contractor  being  in  no  particular  hurry  to 
bring  such  a  pleasant  outing  to  an  end.  Once  or 
twice  he  caught  himself  looking  rather  closely  at 
Ethel  Bywith.  She  was  certainly  a  striking  girl, 
with  a  beautiful,  fair  complexion  and  jet  black  eyes, 
with  hair  to  match. 

"She'll  certainly  be  a  catch  for  some  fellow  some 
day,"  he  thought.  "She's  evidently  much  more  in- 
telligent than  Jennie,  although  she  couldn't  be  any 
better  hearted.  It's  queer  those  two  girls  are  such 
chums  when  they  are  so  different." 

The  top  of  the  hill  gained,  he  brought  the  run- 
about to  a  standstill  that  they  might  have  a  better 
view  of  the  landscape.  Off  to  the  right  the  hill 
sloped  down  to  a  broad  green  valley,  backed  up  by 


102       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

other  hills  and  the  distant  mountains.  Down 
through  the  center  of  the  valley  ran  the  brook, 
bordered  on  either  side  by  well-kept  farms.  In 
the  distance  could  be  seen  the  buildings  which  made 
up  the  town  of  Durham. 

"Oh,  this  is  certainly  beautiful,"  murmured  Ethel 
Bywith,  as  her  dark  eyes  took  in  first  one  portion 
of  the  scene  and  then  another.  "What  a  place  this 
would  be  for  a  bungalow!" 

"Right  you  are,"  he  answered. 

They  sat  there  in  the  runabout  for  a  few  minutes 
more  while  he  pointed  out  various  spots  of  inter- 
est. During  this  time  they  heard  the  chugging  of  a 
distant  automobile,  and  now  this  hove  into  sight, 
coming  up  the  hill  from  the  direction  opposite  to 
that  which  they  were  going. 

"I'll  have  to  draw  off  to  one  side  to  let  that  fel- 
low pass,"  observed  Ross,  and  turned  on  the  power 
once  more. 

As  he  did  this  the  other  automobile  came  close  to 
the  top  of  the  hill,  and  then  Ross  recognized  the 
driver  as  Doctor  Parmalee. 

"Hi  there,  you!  give  me  room  to  pass!"  yelled 
the  young  physician,  as  his  machine  came  almost  to 
a  standstill  just  below  the  top  of  the  hill. 

"All  right,  I'll  give  you  all  the  room  you  want," 
sang  out  the  young  contractor,  and  drew  over  to 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  103 

one  side  so  far  that  his  right  wheels  were  in  the 
bushes. 

The  doctor  looked  glumly  at  Ross  and  nodded 
rather  stiffly  to  Ethel  Bywith,  and  then  went  on  his 
way. 

"He  isn't  very  pleasant,  is  he?"  remarked  the 
girl,  when  Ross  had  turned  once  again  into  the 
roadway  and  resumed  the  journey. 

"No,  I  can't  say  that  I  like  him,"  he  replied. 

The  young  contractor  was  rather  put  out  over 
the  meeting,  not  only  because  of  the  way  Parmalee 
had  addressed  him,  but  because  he  felt  almost  cer- 
tain that  the  young  physician  would  in  the  near 
future  acquaint  Margaret  with  the  fact  that  he  had 
Ethel  Bywith  out  riding. 

"And  you  can  bet  he'll  make  the  most  of  it,"  was 
Ross'  bitter  thought. 

"I  see  Miss  Poole  goes  out  with  the  doctor  quite 
a  good  deal,"  remarked  the  trained  nurse  a  little 
later.  "I  saw  them  out  riding  along  the  river  road 
only  day  before  yesterday." 

"Is  that  so?"  Ross  tried  to  appear  indifferent, 
but  he  was  eager  to  have  her  go  on. 

"Yes.  He  seems  to  be  very  attentive  to  her.  I've 
heard  some  people  say  they  thought  it  might  be  a 
match.  Jennie  Martinson  thinks  so." 

"Perhaps  it  will  be.     But  I  don't  think  Doctor 


104      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

Parmalee  is  half  good  enough  for  Margaret  Poole," 
answered  the  young  man. 

"I  don't  know  much  about  her,  but  I've  been  told 
the  Poole  family  are  very  nice  people,"  returned 
the  trained  nurse,  and  there  the  conversation,  for 
the  time  being,  came  to  an  end,  and  Ross  put  on  a 
burst  of  speed  that  ere  long  carried  them  into 
Clankerton,  where  he  left  his  companion  at  her 
uncle's  home. 

"Well,  if  Margaret  is  going  to  keep  company 
with  Parmalee,  I  suppose  it's  no  use  for  me  to  keep 
thinking  about  her,"  he  muttered  to  himself  when 
he  was  on  his  way  home  after  attending  to  his 
errand.  "I  guess  I  am  left  out  in  the  cold."  And 
then,  on  his  arrival  in  Durham,  he  plunged  into 
work  deeper  than  ever.  But  he  could  not  forget 
the  girl,  and  he  refused  to  believe  his  own  state- 
ment of  the  condition  of  affairs. 

Since  his  discharge,  O'Mara  had  shown  himself 
but  once,  and  that  was  when  he  appeared  for  the 
pay  due  him.  He  had  had  but  little  to  say  to  Ross ; 
but  had  not  hesitated  to  pitch  into  Cole,  and  the 
pair  had  almost  come  to  blows  before  the  Irishman 
took  himself  off. 

"To  fire  him  was  the  best  day's  work  you  ever 
did,"  said  the  foreman  to  Ross,  after  O'Mara  had 
disappeared.  "I  never  liked  him  from  the  start. 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  105 

Why  your  uncle  took  him  on  was  always  a  mystery 
to  me,  excepting  that  he  had  a  certain  knack  of  get- 
ting along  with  the  Dagoes  and  Poles." 

"His  getting  along  with  the  men  is  what  is 
worrying  me,"  answered  the  young  contractor. 
"Have  you  seen  him  talking  to  Gorgi  since  I  gave 
him  his  walking  papers?" 

"No;  but  I  saw  him  around  Vamelli's  saloon, 
and  that  is  a  hang-out  for  lots  of  the  Dagoes  and 
Poles." 

"Well,  all  we  can  do  is  to  be  on  our  guard." 

"I've  been  thinking  that  it  might  have  been  a 
mistake  to  raise  Gorgi's  wages,"  went  on  Cole,  hesi- 
tatingly. 

"How  so?" 

"He'll  get  the  notion  that  he's  of  some  impor- 
tance, and  that  he  can  dictate  to  you — after  he  gets 
the  men  well  in  hand." 

"I  think  you  are  mistaken,  Cole.  I  studied  him 
pretty  well  before  I  said  a  word.  He  hasn't  half 
as  much  influence  as  you  imagine." 

"In  that  case,  how  can  he  stop  O'Mara  ?" 

"He  can't,  altogether.  It's  going  to  be  a  fight, 
and  we'll  have  to  hold  up  our  end  as  best  we  can," 
concluded  Ross. 

The  work  on  the  outlet  sewer  had  come  to  an 
end,  and  been  accepted  by  the  authorities.  A  final 


106       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

payment  of  four  thousand  dollars  was  due  the  es- 
tate of  John  Goodwin,  and  this  money,  after  some 
formalities,  was  handed  over  to  Ross.  The  pay- 
ment was  made  at  Cressing,  half  in  cash  and  half 
in  a  check  on  one  of  the  county  banks. 

Since  beginning  the  work  on  the  new  line,  Ross 
had  made  it  a  point  to  go  over  the  route  on  horse- 
back whenever  business  called  him  that  way.  There 
was  generally  something  to  be  inspected,  and  he 
never  grew  tired  of  studying  the  rocky  cliff  that 
was  to  be  blasted  away.  He  remembered  what  had 
been  said  about  this  cliff,  and  he  wondered  how 
much  labor  and  how  many  pounds  of  dynamite 
would  be  required  to  level  it  to  the  necessary  road- 
bed. 

The  payment  on  the  sewer  outlet  was  not  made 
until  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  after  that 
he  had  to  attend  to  other  matters,  which  took  him 
a  good  hour  and  over.  Then  he  found  himself 
hungry,  and  invited  Cole  to  a  restaurant  to  dine 
with  him  before  starting  for  home. 

"You  must  feel  rich  to-night,'"  said  Cole,  jok- 
ingly. "Reckon  I'll  have  to  order  quail  on  toast 
and  some  other  high-priced  things." 

"I  do  feel  a  little  richer  than  I  did,"  answered 
Ross,  good-naturedly.  "And,  by  the  way,  Cole, 
what  sort  of  a  bonus  would  my  uncle  have  given 
you  on  that  job  if  he  had  lived?" 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  107 

The  foreman  flushed  slightly. 

"I  didn't  say  what  I  did  for  that,"  he  answered, 
half  roughly. 

"I  know  you  didn't,  and  I  don't  want  to  hurt 
your  feelings.  But  I  know  he  gave  you  something 
extra  on  the  other  contracts." 

"That  was  his  affair." 

"And  this  is  mine — and  yours.  Come,  now,  out 
with  it.  I  want  to  do  the  fair  thing.  I  know  you'll 
tell  me  the  truth." 

"You  think  I'm  a  George  Washington,  eh  ?"  The 
foreman  laughed  shortly.  "All  right;  some  day 
you  may  get  left." 

"I'll  risk  it.  Now,  how  much  did  you  think  to 
get?  Out  with  it!" 

"Well,  if  you  must  have  it,  he  gave  me  four 
hundred  dollars  on  the  day  he  got  his  last  payment 
on  the  Hamlet-Jones  contract,  and  his  private  ac- 
count books  ought  to  show  it.  That  contract  was 
about  the  size  of  the  outlet  sewer  contract,  and  took 
about  as  long  to  finish." 

"Didn't  he  promise  you  something  for  the  outlet 
sewer  work?" 

"Yes;  but  he  didn't  mention  any  amount." 

"Well,  how  will  five  hundred  dollars  strike  you?" 

"It  will  strike  me  very  nicely.  But  I  don't  want 
to  rob  you,  with  you  just  going  into  business," 
added  Cole,  earnestly. 


108       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

They  were  seated  at  the  table,  and,  drawing  out 
the  cash  he  had  received,  Ross  counted  out  five  one- 
hundred-dollar  bills  and  shoved  them  toward  his 
companion. 

"There  you  are,  Cole;  and  let  me  say  I  think 
you've  earned  every  cent  of  it.  Stick  by  me  to  the 
end  of  this  new  contract  and  you'll  fare  equally 
well,  and  maybe  better." 

The  foreman  took  the  bills  slowly,  and  his  eyes 
shone  with  satisfaction. 

"Thanks,  very  much,  Mr.  Goodwin;  you're  as 
kind  as  your  uncle  was  before  you,  and  I  couldn't 
say  more  if  I  tried.  I'll  accept,  on  one  condition." 

"What  is  that?" 

"That  you  have  that  quail  on  toast  on  me.  I  feel 
like  a  millionaire." 

"Not  accepted,  Cole ;  you  dine  with  me  to-night." 

"All  right,  then,  if  I  must.  Just  the  same,  I 
shan't  take  quail  on  toast.  I'm  going  to  disgrace 
you  by  ordering  corned  beef  and  cabbage  and  a  pot 
of  strong  coffee." 

"You  can't  disgrace  me  that  way,"  laughed  Ross. 
"I  can  eat  corned  beef  and  cabbage  myself  these 
days.  But  to-night  I'm  going  to  treat  myself  to  a 
porterhouse  steak."  And  he  did. 

The  supper  lasted  an  hour,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
it  was  almost  dark  when  the  young  contractor 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  109 

started  on  horseback  for  Durham.  It  was  a  warm 
Summer  night,  with  only  a  few  stars  shining  over- 
head. A  faint  breeze  was  blowing  from  the  south- 
west, and  to  Ross  it  seemed  to  betoken  a  storm. 

He  had  left  Cole  at  the  corner  on  which  the  res- 
taurant was  located,  and  was  alone  with  only 
Nancy,  his  favorite  mare,  for  company.  But  he 
had  often  gone  over  this  route  before  when  alone, 
and  so  did  not  mind  it.  Since  journeying  back  and 
forth  he  had  become  accustomed  to  carrying  a  re- 
volver in  his  hip  pocket,  and  the  six-shooter  was 
now  there,  ready  for  use  should  an  emergency  arise. 
But  tramps  and  bad  characters  were  almost  un- 
known in  that  neighborhood,  and  he  anticipated 
no  trouble. 

As  he  rode  along  he  thought  of  several  things 
Cole  had  told  him.  The  foreman  was  a  young  mar- 
ried man,  with  a  pleasing  wife  and  three  small 
children.  He  had  worked  his  way  up  from  nothing, 
and  had  had  more  than  one  setback.  At  one  time 
fire  had  wiped  out  his  little  home,  and  at  another 
a  flood  had  carried  off  the  lumber  in  which  he  had, 
for  speculation's  sake,  put  nearly  all  of  his  sav- 
ings. But  the  man  was  as  dauntless  as  ever,  even 
if  not  as  daring. 

"He  has  roughed  it  and  made  a  true  man  of  him- 
self," thought  Ross.  "If  I  can't  do  as  much,  with 


110      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

my  education  and  advantages,  I'm  not  fit  to  live. 
He  doesn't  put  on  any  airs,  but  he  is  one  man  in  a 
thousand  for  real  worth." 

From  his  personal  affairs,  Cole  had  switched 
around  to  the  doings  of  Breen  and  Shacker.  He 
had  learned  that  Shacker  had  obtained  a  contract 
to  grade  a  public  road  twenty  miles  to  the  north 
of  Cressing.  This  work  was  to  be  put  through  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and  a  large  number  of  men 
would  be  needed  for  the  job.  Shacker  had  already 
engaged  many  of  the  men  that  usually  worked  for 
Breen,  and  there  was  a  rumor  in  the  air  that  Breen 
had  a  share  in  the  contract,  but  had  thought  best 
not  to  appear  as  one  of  the  responsible  parties. 

"If  Shacker  already  has  all  of  his  own  men  and 
those  of  Breen,  his  next  move  will  be  to  get  my 
men  from  me,"  thought  the  young  contractor. 
"And  he'll  undertake  that  dirty  work  through 
O'Mara  or  Gorgi.  It's  going  to  be  a  nip-and-tuck 
race  from  start  to  finish.  As  Cole  says,  I  had  bet- 
ter look  around  and  see  if  I  can't  hire  or  buy  a  sec- 
ond-hand steam  shovel.  On  the  heavy  grading 
such  a  shovel  will  be  worth  as  much  as  a  dozen  la- 
borers, at  least.  And  I  had  better  advertise  in  the 
city  papers  for  more  men,  too;  especially  in  the 
Italian  and  in  the  Polish  papers.  I  must  beat  them 
somehow." 


A  Blow  in  the  Dark  1 1 1 

Thus  musing,  he  rode  on  and  on  along  the  lonely 
trail  until  several  miles  had  been  covered.  He  saw 
it  was  growing  darker  rapidly,  and  presently  a  few 
scattering  drops  of  rain  began  to  fall.  Thinking 
how  unpleasant  it  would  be  to  be  caught  in  a  storm 
so  far  from  shelter,  he  urged  the  mare  forward  at 
her  best  speed. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  came  to  a  straight 
stretch  of  the  trail  leading  to  the  rocky  cliff  which 
had  caused  him  so  much  speculation.  As  he  came 
out  in  the  open  air,  he  fancied  he  heard  sounds 
ahead  of  him.  He  peered  forward  sharply  and 
thought  he  saw  the  movement  of  some  person, 
either  on  foot  or  on  horseback.  But  nothing  could 
be  seen  distinctly,  and  a  moment  later  a  heavy 
downpour  caused  him  to  pay  attention  to  nothing 
but  his  comfort,  or  discomfort. 

"This  is  going  to  be  a  soaker,  and  no  mistake," 
he  muttered,  in  dismay.  "If  I  don't  get  to  shelter 
soon  I'll  be  wet  to  the  skin.  Wonder  if  I  can't  find 
some  sort  of  place  under  that  cliff?  If  it's  only  a 
shower  it  won't  last  long." 

Two  minutes  of  hard  riding  brought  him  to  the 
beginning  of  the  cliff,  and  here  he  paused,  to  find 
some  such  shelter  as  he  had  in  mind.  The  rocks 
stood  out  boldly,  and  he  had  to  pick  his  way,  fear- 
ing Nancy  might  otherwise  fall  or  break  a  leg. 


112      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

Then  he  heard  a  sound  on  the  edge  of  the  cliff  over 
his  head  and  looked  up. 

"Hullo!"  he  cried,  loudly.     "Who's  up  there?" 
There  was  no  reply,  but  the  sound  was  repeated. 
Somehow  it  made  Ross  nervous,  and  he  pulled  out 
his  revolver. 

As  he  did  this  a  form  appeared  out  of  the  gloom 
above.  Ross  saw  a  large  stone  hurled  at  him.  He 
tried  to  dodge,  but  it  was  too  late.  The  stone 
came  down  on  his  hat,  crushing  the  head  covering 
over  his  eyes  and  ears.  Then  he  felt  a  dull  pain, 
which  quickly  spread  all  over  him.  He  clutched  at 
his  saddle,  failed  to  steady  himself,  and  fell  to  the 
ground  unconscious. 


CHAPTER  X 

UNDER  ARREST 

FOR  fully  a  minute  after  the  young  contractor  fell 
over  unconscious  there  was  no  movement  anywhere 
around  him.  Then,  however,  the  bushes  above 
parted,  and  the  form  of  a  man  came  close  to  the 
edge  of  the  cliff.  The  man  peered  down  on  the  un- 
conscious form,  and  then  began  to  move  along 
the  edge  of  the  cliff  to  where  a  series  of  rough 
rocks  led  downward.  He  was  soon  on  the  road- 
way, and  walked  quickly  to  where  Ross  lay.  In 
the  meanwhile,  the  horse  had  clattered  off  in  the 
gloom  and  disappeared. 

"I  don't  think  anybody  saw  this  happening,"  mur- 
mured the  man  to  himself,  as  he  gazed  sharply  up 
and  down  the  road.  Not  a  soul  was  in  sight,  and 
the  sound  of  the  horse's  hoofs  had  long  since  died 
away  in  the  distance. 

The  man  who  had  made  the  attack  was  well 
bundled  up,  with  a  raincoat  buttoned  up  tightly 
around  his  throat  and  a  storm  hat  pulled  well  down 
over  his  forehead.  Making  certain  that  he  was 
not  observed,  the  fellow  who  had  committed  this 
dastardly  attack  drew  a  small  flashlight  from  his 
pocket  and  turned  the  rays  on  to  the  form  sprawled 

113 


114       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

out  in  the  highway.  Then  he  kneeled  down  and 
made  a  brief  examination  of  his  victim.  He  found 
Ross  breathing  heavily,  while  the  blood  was  flowing 
from  a  cut  on  the  top  of  the  head. 

"He  isn't  dead,  and  he'll  come  around  presently," 
muttered  the  assailant.  "Now  to  see  what  I  can 
find.  I  might  as  well  make  a  clean  job  of  it  while 
I'm  at  it." 

The  diamond  scarf-pin  which  the  young  contrac- 
tor wore  and  his  watch-chain  were  in  plain  evi- 
dence, and  it  took  the  rascal  but  a  minute  or  two 
to  gain  possession  both  of  the  scarf-pin  and  the 
gold  watch  and  chain.  Then  the  fellow  felt  in 
Ross'  vest  pocket,  bringing  out  several  loose  bank 
bills,  and  finally  thrust  his  hand  into  the  inside 
pocket  of  the  young  contractor's  coat.  He  brought 
out  the  flat  pocketbook,  and  gave  a  glance  at  the 
quantity  of  bank  bills  it  contained. 

"I'm  in  luck  all  right  enough,"  he  muttered  to 
himself  with  great  satisfaction.  "Now,  to  make 
my  get-away  before  anybody  sees  me!"  Then,  with 
his  ill-gotten  gains  in  his  possession,  he  darted 
across  the  roadway  and  took  to  a  path  leading  away 
from  the  cliff. 

The  rain  continued  to  descend  in  a  steady  down- 
pour, but  even  this  did  not  revive  the  young  con- 
tractor, who  lay  stretched  out  on  the  muddy  road- 


The  man  peered  down  on  the  unconscious   form. 

(See  page  113.) 


Under  Arrest  115 

way  as  if  in  death.  Thus  the  best  part  of  half  an 
hour  went  by  when  a  rattling  wagon  came  along 
the  road,  a  smoky  lantern  dangling  over  the  dash- 
board. 

"Hi  there!  what's  this?"  exclaimed  a  voice,  as 
the  horses  came  to  a  sudden  halt.  Then  the  farmer 
who  was  driving  saw  the  form  lying  in  the  road- 
way, and,  catching  up  his  lantern,  he  leaped  to  the 
ground.  "By  gum!  it  looks  as  if  somebody  had 
been  killed  or  else  it's  a  suicide,"  he  added,  noting 
the  pistol  beside  the  body. 

Setting  down  his  lantern,  John  Peabody  lost  no 
time  in  making  an  examination  of  the  sufferer.  He 
found  Ross  breathing  heavily  and  the  blood  still 
flowing  from  the  wound  in  his  head.  Going  back 
to  his  wagon,  the  farmer  rummaged  around  for  a 
few  minutes  and  then  brought  forth  a  flour  bag 
which  he  hastily  cut  into  strips  and  bound  around 
the  sufferer's  head. 

"I  suppose  I  got  to  git  him  to  town,  or  some- 
where," he  murmured.  "If  I  leave  him  here  he'll 
die  sure.  He's  lost  a  lot  of  blood  already." 

The  farmer  was  middle-aged  and  strong,  and  it 
was  comparatively  an  easy  task  for  him  to  raise 
up  the  body  and  carry  it  back  to  his  farm  wagon. 
Here  he  placed  it  upon  a  number  of  empty  bags 
which  he  was  carrying,  and  covered  it  with  a  horse- 


116      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

blanket,  leaving  the  upper  end  open  so  that  Ross 
might  get  a  little  air.  Then  he  set  off  as  rapidly  as 
possible  in  the  direction  of  his  farmhouse,  a  mile 
and  a  half  away. 

The  young  contractor  was  still  unconscious  when 
John  Peabody  drove  into  his  dooryard  and  called 
loudly  for  his  son  and  his  wife  to  come  and  help 
him.  Matters  were  quickly  explained,  and  Mrs. 
Peabody  lost  no  time  in  preparing  a  couch  in  the 
living-room  on  which,  a  few  minutes  later,  her  hus- 
band and  her  son  disposed  the  sufferer. 

"We  got  to  have  a  doctor  for  him,"  announced 
the  farmer.  "Bill,  you  take  the  auto  and  git  down 
to  town  just  as  fast  as  you  kin." 

As  luck  would  have  it,  the  farmer  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  having  Doctor  Shepard  for  a  family 
physician — the  same  man  who  attended  the  Good- 
win household.  The  doctor  was  at  home,  and  lost 
no  time  in  going  to  the  farm. 

"Why,  it's  Ross  Goodwin!"  exclaimed  the  phy- 
sician, as  soon  as  he  beheld  the  unconscious  form  on 
the  couch. 

"Ross  Goodwin!"  ejaculated  John  Peabody.  "Do 
you  mean  the  nephew  of  old  John  Goodwin?" 

"That's  it." 

"Then  he's  the  one  that's  taken  on  the  new  rail- 
road contract." 

"Yes.  Where  did  you  find  him?" 


Under  Arrest  117 

The  farmer  explained,  and  while  he  was  doing 
so  Doctor  Shepard  made  a  thorough  examination 
of  his  patient. 

"He's  in  a  bad  way,"  he  remarked,  shaking  his 
head  slowly.  "How  do  you  suppose  he  got  hit?" 

"I  dunno,  I'm  sure.  Maybe  one  o'  them  rocks 
from  the  cliff  fell  on  him.  They  come  down  now 
and  then,  you  know;  especially  when  there's  a 
storm." 

"But  how  could  it  strike  him  on  the  head  like 
that?" 

"It  couldn't  do  it,"  burst  out  the  farmer's  son. 
"Somebody  must  have  hit  him  in  the  head." 

"I  see  his  watch  is  gone,"  remarked  the  physician. 
"He  didn't  have  it  on  him  when  you  picked  him  up, 
did  he?" 

"Not  that  I  saw,"  answered  John  Peabody 
quickly.  "I  didn't  touch  a  thing.  I  just  brung  him 
in  here  and  sent  for  you." 

"I'd  rather  have  him  at  his  own  house  than 
here,"  went  on  Doctor  Shepard,  "but  I  don't  see 
how  I  can  move  him  just  yet.  I  think  you'll  have 
to  keep  him  at  least  for  a  few  days." 

"He  can  stay  here  and  welcome,"  put  in  Mrs. 
Peabody.  "Of  course,  our  accommodations  here 
aren't  as  nice  as  what  they  have  at  the  Goodwin 
home,  but  I  guess  we  can  take  care  of  him." 

"We'll  move  him  just  as  soon  as  it  is  possible  to 


118      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

do  so,"  announced  the  doctor.  "And  in  the  mean- 
time I  think  I  had  better  send  down  a  trained  nurse 
to  take  charge." 

"I'm  willin'  to  do  all  I  can,"  said  the  woman  of 
the  house  quickly. 

"I  know  that,  Mrs.  Peabody.  But  I  might  as 
well  tell  you  this  is  a  very  serious  case,  and  I  would 
prefer  to  have  a  regular  trained  nurse  take  charge, 
if  you  can  accommodate  her." 

"Oh,  sure,  Doctor.  But  can  you  get  a  nurse 
right  on  the  jump?" 

"I  think  so.  Miss  Martinson  was  speaking  about 
being  at  liberty  only  yesterday.  If  I  can  get  her, 
she  will  do  first-rate.  And  she  knows  Mr.  Good- 
win, so  that  will  make  it  so  much  better." 

The  doctor  remained  with  Ross  for  over  an 
hour,  and  then  had  the  farmer's  son  take  him  back 
to  town  and  around  to  where  Jennie  Martinson 
lived. 

"Seriously  hurt!  Why,  isn't  that  dreadful!" 
cried  the  trained  nurse,  when  made  acquainted  with 
the  situation.  "Why,  yes,  Doctor  Shepard,  I'll  be 
glad  to  take  care  of  him.  I  promised  him  I'd  do  it, 
if  he  ever  needed  me.  I  only  hope  he  comes  out 
of  it  all  right." 

"I  can't  say  yet  how  matters  are  going  to  turn 
out,  Miss  Martinson.  He  got  a  pretty  bad  crack 


Under  Arrest  119 

on  the  head,  and,  as  you  know,  those  things  some- 
times lead  to  complications." 

"Are  you  going  to  notify  the  police  ?" 

"I  think  I  had  better.  It  looks  to  me  as  if  he  had 
been  waylaid  and  robbed." 

"Oh,  who  would  be  wicked  enough  to  do  such 
a  thing  as  that  ?" 

"Plenty  of  fellows,  if  they  thought  Goodwin  had 
been  carrying  any  considerable  amount  of  money." 

"He  used  to  wear  a  fine  diamond  scarf-pin,  and  I 
know  he  had  a  fine  gold  watch,"  remarked  the 
trained  nurse. 

"Well,  the  watch  is  gone,  and  so  is  the  scarf-pin, 
if  he  was  wearing  it.  About  what  money  he  car- 
ried, I  have  no  knowledge."  And  then  Jennie  hur- 
ried away  to  get  ready  to  go  to  the  Peabody  farm. 
An  hour  later  she  was  on  the  way,  the  farmer's 
son  driving  her  over. 

From  the  Martinson  home,  Doctor  Shepard 
walked  around  to  the  police  station  and  there  ac- 
quainted the  sergeant  in  charge  with  what  had 
occurred  so  far  as  he  knew  the  particulars.  The 
news  soon  spread  throughout  the  community,  and 
long  before  daylight  a  number  of  persons  had 
visited  the  scene  of  the  attack  and  were  trying  to 
learn  more  concerning  the  details. 

It  was  known  by  a  number  of  people  that  Ross 


120      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

had  visited  Cressing  to  get  a  final  payment  on  the 
Outlet  Sewer  contract.  Inquiries  were  made  from 
the  people  having  this  payment  in  charge,  and  it 
was  soon  learned  that  Ross  had  received  a  payment 
of  four  thousand  dollars,  half  in  cash  and  half  in  a 
check  on  one  of  the  county  banks. 

"Well,  that  money  is  gone,  and  so  is  the  check, 
as  well  as  his  watch  and  anything  else  he  had  of 
value  in  his  pockets,"  said  the  police  chief  of  Dur- 
ham after  a  visit  to  Cressing.  "Now  the  question 
is,  if  he  was  robbed,  who  did  the  deed?"  and  he 
looked  around  expectantly  at  the  half  dozen  men 
present. 

"Must  have  been  a  regular  highwayman,  Tobin," 
was  one  man's  comment. 

"Highwaymen  don't  hit  fellers  in  the  head  with 
a  rock,"  announced  another.  "A  highwayman 
would  have  held  him  up  at  the  point  of  a  couple 
o'  pistols." 

"I'll  get  to  the  bottom  of  this  sooner  or  later," 
announced  Chief  Tobin  pompously.  "Just  you  give 
me  time  enough  to  make  a  few  more  investiga- 
tions." He  was  a  great  man  for  investigating  a 
crime,  but  it  cannot  be  said  to  his  credit  that  he 
very  often  caught  the  criminal. 

The  chief's  sleuthing  around  finally  brought  him 
to  the  restaurant  where  Larry  Cole  and  Ross  had 


Under  Arrest  121 

dined.  Here  he  had  quite  an  interesting  conversa- 
tion with  the  restaurant  keeper. 

"Yes,  he  was  here  with  that  foreman  of  his,  Cole, 
and  they  sat  right  at  yonder  table,"  said  the  restau- 
rant man.  "Goodwin  had  a  lot  of  money  with 
him." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  questioned  the  chief 
eagerly. 

"Because  I  saw  it,  Chief.  He  and  his  foreman 
talked  over  some  business  matters  in  a  very  earnest 
manner,  and  then  I  saw  Goodwin  pull  a  flat  pocket- 
book  from  the  inside  pocket  of  his  coat  and  bring 
out  a  big  pile  of  bills.  He  counted  out  a  few  of 
'em,  and  passed  'em  over  to  Cole,  and  then  put  the 
others  back  in  his  pocket." 

"Probably  paying  Cole  his  week's  wages,"  ven- 
tured the  chief. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that.  But  I  do 
know  that  Goodwin  had  a  big  wad  of  money  in  that 
pocketbook.  Why,  the  stack  of  bills  were  about 
that  thick!"  and  the  restaurant  man  held  his  flat 
hand  two  inches  above  his  cigar  counter. 

"Yes,  it  was  the  money  he  got  for  that  outlet 
sewer."  The  chief  paused  for  a  moment  to  pull  his 
moustache  meditatively.  "Was  there  any  one  else 
around  when  Goodwin  paid  his  foreman  that 
money?" 


122       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Oh,  there  were  half  a  dozen  people  here  getting 
something  to  eat;  but  they  sat  over  in  that  corner, 
and  I  don't  believe  anybody  saw  the  money  except 
me  and  Mary,  one  of  the  waitresses." 

"And  where  did  Cole  and  Goodwin  go  after 
they  were  through  eating?" 

"They  went  outside,  and  then  Cole  hurried  away 
— I  don't  know  to  where.  Goodwin  went  across 
the  street  to  the  stationery  store,  and  was  in  there 
probably  ten  minutes.  Then  he  came  back  here, 
got  on  his  horse,  and  rode  out  of  town." 

•  "Then  Cole  had  time  to  get  out  of  town  ahead  of 
him?" 

"Why  yes;  I  should  say  he  did."  The  hotel 
keeper  looked  at  the  chief  of  police  curiously.  "Say, 
do  you  suppose  that  foreman  had  anything  to  do 
with  this?" 

"That  remains  to  be  found  out,"  was  the  reply. 

From  Cressing  the  chief  of  police  lost  no  time  in 
getting  back  to  Durham,  and  then  he  inquired  his 
way  to  Larry  Cole's  home.  Here  he  met  the  fore- 
man's wife. 

"Oh,  dear!  did  you  come  to  tell  us  about  what 
has  happened  to  poor  Mr.  Goodwin?"  cried  the 
woman,  when  she  saw  the  police  official. 

"So  you've  heard  about  it,  have  you?"  he  re- 
turned. 


Under  Arrest  123 

"Why,  yes.  The  news  is  all  over  town.  Isn't 
it  a  dreadful  happening?" 

"Where  is  your  husband,  Mrs.  Cole?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir.  He  didn't  come  home  last 
night.  He  said  yesterday  when  he  went  away  that 
he  might  be  away  for  several  days.  He  has  so 
many  outside  things  to  attend  to,  now  that  O'Mara 
is  no  longer  with  Mr.  Goodwin." 

"And  you  haven't  any  idea  where  your  husband 
is  just  now?" 

"No,  sir,  although  he  must  be  either  down  to 
where  they're  working  on  the  new  railroad,  or 
otherwise  he  has  heard  what  has  happened  to  Mr. 
Goodwin  and  has  gone  over  to  the  Peabody  farm 
to  see  him." 

"Well,  I'll  have  to  find  him.  I  want  him  to  give 
me  some  information,"  returned  the  chief  of  police, 
and  hurried  away. 

From  the  Cole  homestead  he  made  his  way  back 
to  his  office,  and  there,  from  one  of  his  lieutenants 
who  had  just  come  from  the  Peabody  homestead, 
learned  that  nothing  had  been  seen  there  of  the  fore- 
man. Then  he  and  one  of  his  men  walked  down 
to  where  the  gangs  were  working  along  the  pro- 
posed line  of  the  railroad. 

"No,  Cole  hasn't  been  here  so  far  to-day,  but 
I'm  expecting  him  at  any  minute,"  answered  Jimmy 


124      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

McGuire,  who  was  in  charge  of  the  gangs.  He  had 
just  heard  of  Ross'  trouble,  and  was  much  upset. 

"I'll  hang  around  a  bit  and  see  if  Cole  shows  up," 
announced  Chief  Tobin. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  less  than  five  min- 
utes later  Larry  Cole  came  riding  up  on  a  horse  he 
had  borrowed  from  somewhere. 

"The  deuce  is  to  pay!"  he  cried  to  McGuire. 
"Have  you  heard  what  happened  to  Mr.  Goodwin  ?" 

"I  sure  did.  And  I'm  all  upset  over  it,"  answered 
the  other. 

"See  here,  Cole,  I  want  to  talk  to  you.  Come  on 
over  here  a  minute,"  said  the  chief  of  police,  and 
he  motioned  the  foreman  to  one  side. 

A  number  of  the  workmen  looked  on  curiously, 
and  McGuire  followed  the  officer  and  Cole  to  find 
out  what  was  doing. 

"What  is  it  you  want  of  me?"  demanded  Cole. 
"Have  you  found  out  anything  about  this?  I  just 
heard  of  it  a  few  hours  ago,  and  I  came  over  here 
to  see  how  things  were  going  and  then  I  was  going 
to  ride  over  to  that  farmhouse  where  they  say  they 
have  Mr.  Goodwin." 

"You  were  with  Mr.  Goodwin  when  he  was  paid 
off  for  that  outlet  sewer,  weren't  you?"  demanded 
the  chief  of  police. 

"Sure." 


Under  Arrest  125 

"You  went  to  the  restaurant  with  him  after  that, 
didn't  you?" 

"I  did." 

"He  paid  you  your  wages  there,  didn't  he?" 

"He  paid  me "  Cole  stopped  short.  "What 

the  devil  are  you  driving  at,  Chief?" 

"I'm  driving  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  this  affair, 
Cole,"  was  the  cold  reply.  "You  were  with  Good- 
win, and  you  knew  he  was  carrying  a  lot  of  money 
with  him,  didn't  you?" 

The  foreman  stared  hardly  at  the  chief  of  police 
for  a  moment.  Then,  of  a  sudden,  his  clenched  fist 
came  up. 

"Do  you  mean  to  intimate  that  I  had  anything  to 
do  with  this  robbery?"  he  cried  angrily. 

"I  ain't  intimating  anything.  I  want  to  get  at 
the  bottom  of  it.  You  was  the  last  man  seen  with 
Mr.  Goodwin,  and  you  knew  he  was  carrying  a 
whole  lot  of  money.  Now,  that  looks  suspicious. 
You  may  be  perfectly  innocent,  but  I'm  the  chief  of 
police  and  I've  got  to  do  my  duty.  Now  then,  Cole, 
out  with  it,  are  you  willing  to  be  searched  or 
not?" 

"Me  searched!"  the  foreman  grew  purple  with 
rage.  "Why,  you  low-down  skunk,  you " 

"See  here  now,  you  take  it  easy,"  broke  in  the 
policeman  who  had  accompanied  the  chief. 


126      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Are  you  willing  to  be  searched  or  not?"  de- 
manded Chief  Tobin. 

"I  won't  be  searched !"  cried  the  foreman  in  high 
indignation. 

"All  right  then,  Cole,  you  can  consider  yourself 
under  arrest" 


CHAPTER  XI 

MARGARET    MAKES   A    MOVE 

FOR  a  moment  after  Chief  Tobin  made  his  an- 
nouncement, Larry  Cole  stared  at  him  as  if  he  had 
not  heard  aright. 

"You  are  going  to  place  me  under  arrest?"  he 
cried  finally.  "Me?" 

"That's  it,  Cole." 

"But,  see  here !"  broke  out  the  foreman,  and  then 
raised  his  clenched  fist  as  if  to  hit  the  chief. 

The  policeman  standing  alongside  caught  him  by 
the  arm. 

"See  here !  None  of  that,  unless  you  want  to  get 
your  head  broke,"  he  admonished  sternly. 

"What  right  has  he  got  to  accuse  me  of  this 
crime?  I  haven't  done  anything  wrong.  Why, 
I'd  as  soon  think  of  robbing  my  own  mother  as  of 
robbing  Mr.  Goodwin!" 

"We'll  thrash  this  out  at  the  station  house,"  an- 
swered Chief  Tobin,  in  anything  but  a  pleasant 
tone.  For  one  instant  he  had  imagined  Cole  was 
going  to  strike  him,  and  he  had  not  been  prepared 
for  the  attack. 

"See  here,  haven't  we  got  trouble  enough  with- 
127 


128      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

out  you  adding  to  it?"  stormed  the  foreman.  "With 
Mr.  Goodwin  knocked  out,  I  've  got  to  take  charge 
of  everything " 

"You  can  do  your  talking  later  on,"  interrupted 
the  chief.  "Come  on  now.  And  no  fancy  work, 
or  you'll  go  to  the  hospital." 

More  words  followed;  and  it  was  all  Larry  Cole 
could  do  to  control  his  temper.  In  the  end,  how- 
ever, he  consented  to  go  to  the  police  station,  ac- 
companied by  one  of  his  men,  who  was  sent  along 
so  that  he  might  bring  word  back  to  Jimmy  Mc- 
Guire  of  what  had  happened. 

In  a  town  like  Durham,  as  we  have  already 
learned,  news  of  any  kind  spreads  rapidly,  and  the 
foreman  and  those  who  had  placed  him  under  arrest 
were  followed  by  a  motley  crowd  to  the  police 
station. 

"Now,  then,  I  guess  we'll  search  you,"  said 
Chief  Tobin  harshly,  and  he  motioned  for  a  couple 
of  his  men  to  go  ahead. 

"See  here,  Chief,  you  are  going  to  get  yourself 
in  hot  water,"  said  Cole.  "I'm  an  innocent  man, 
and  you've  no  right  to  treat  me  in  this  way." 

"I'll  take  my  chances  on  your  being  innocent. 
There  has  been  a  foul  crime  committed — for  all  I 
know  Mr.  Goodwin  may  die — and  it's  up  to  me  as 
chief  of  police  of  this  town  to  find  out  who  did  the 


Margaret  Makes  a  Move  129 

deed.  As  far  as  we  can  learn,  you  were  about  the 
last  man  who  had  anything  to  do  with  Goodwin 
before  he  was  attacked." 

The  searching  of  Larry  Cole  did  not  take  long. 
A  pocketknife,  a  bunch  of  keys,  and  some  loose 
change  were  brought  forth,  followed  by  a  notebook, 
some  papers,  and  then  a  flat  pocketbook. 

"What's  in  the  pocketbook?"  demanded  the  chief 
of  one  of  his  men,  and  the  pocketbook  was  opened 
in  the  presence  of  the  crowd. 

A  number  of  those  present,  including  the  chief, 
gave  a  gasp  when  they  saw  that  the  pocketbook 
contained  five  one-hundred-dollar  bills,  a  ten-dollar 
bill  and  two  ones. 

"Five  hundred  and  twelve  dollars/'  announced 
Chief  Tobin  in  a  loud  voice.  "Some  money  for  a 
man  like  you  to  be  carrying  around,  Cole,"  he  said 
sarcastically. 

"It's  mine,  fair  and  square,"  answered  the  fore- 
man stubbornly. 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"I  got  it "  Larry  Cole  hesitated  for  an  in- 
stant. "Never  mind  about  that  just  now.  It's 
mine  fair  and  square,  and  if  Mr.  Goodwin  was  here 
this  minute,  he'd  say  the  same." 

"If  you  got  the  money  fairly,  what  is  your  ob- 
jection to  telling  when  and  how?"  demanded  one  of 


130      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

the  men  in  the  crowd — a  fellow  who  was  a  news- 
paper reporter. 

Larry  Cole  thought  rapidly.  Possibly  Ross  would 
not  care  to  make  it  public  that  he  had  given  his 
foreman  five  hundred  dollars  for  his  work  in  con- 
nection with  the  outlet  sewer.  If  the  other  men, 
like  Jimmy  McGuire  for  instance,  heard  of  it,  they 
might  demand  bonuses,  and  this  might  cause  the 
young  contractor  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  and  some 
of  his  help  might  even  leave  him. 

"Come  now — are  you  going  to  tell  us  where  you 
got  this  money?"  demanded  the  chief,  after  a  mo- 
ment of  intense  silence. 

"No — at  least,  not  now." 

"Say,  Cole,  this  will  make  matters  look  black  for 
you,"  put  in  the  man  who  had  accompanied  him 
from  the  gang.  "Better  tell  a  straight  story." 

"I  can't  say  anything  just  now,"  burst  out  the 
foreman.  "That  money  is  mine,  and  I  want  it," 
and  he  reached  out  his  hand  for  the  pocketbook. 

"I  reckon  I'll  take  charge  of  this  until  this  matter 
is  cleared  up,"  said  Chief  Tobin.  "We'll  put  that 
money  in  the  safe  here."  And  this  was  done. 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  me?"  de- 
manded Cole. 

"I'm  going  to  hold  you  for  this  assault  on  Mr. 
Goodwin.  And  I'm  going  to  hold  you  without 


Margaret  Makes  a  Move  131 

bail,  too, — until  the  doctor  says  he  is  out  of  danger." 

"Hold  me — and  without  bail?"  gasped  the  fore- 
man in  dismay.  "Why,  see  here,  Chief,  didn't  I 
tell  you  I've  got  a  lot  of  work  to  do?  This  rail- 
road contract  has  got  to  be  looked  after,  even  if 
Mr.  Goodwin  goes  to  the  hospital.  He's  under  a 
bond  of  twenty  thousand  dollars  to  get  that  con- 
tract through  on  time,  and  if  he  don't  get  it  through 
on  time  he'll  lose  his  money." 

"The  law  has  nothing  to  do  with  that,  Cole.  And 
from  now  on  you'd  better  keep  your  mouth  shut 
until  we  find  out  how  badly  Mr.  Goodwin  has  been 
hurt." 

This  practically  closed  the  hearing,  and  a  little 
while  later  Cole  was  conducted  to  a  cell  in  the 
police  station.  The  foreman  was,  of  course,  much 
disturbed  in  mind,  and  hardly  knew  where  to  turn. 

"This  will  break  my  wife  all  up,"  he  said  to  the 
workman  who  was  to  go  back  to  report  to  Jimmy 
McGuire.  "You  send  McGuire  around  to  my 
house,  and  tell  him  to  break  the  news  as  gently  as 
possible.  And  then  tell  McGuire  to  come  here  as 
soon  as  he  gets  a  chance,  and  find  out  if  he  can  get 
the  name  of  some  good  lawyer  who  will  take  hold 
of  this  case  for  me.  I  don't  know  anything  about 
the  law,  and  I  don't  want  to  get  in  any  deeper  than 
I  am  now,"  Cole  added  rather  helplessly.  He  was 


132      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

a  splendid  worker,  but  never  had  had  any  use  for 
law  courts  and  lawyers. 

As  was  but  natural,  Mrs.  Cole  was  completely 
upset  by  the  news  concerning  her  husband.  She 
left  her  children  in  the  charge  of  a  neighbor  and 
lost  no  time  in  hurrying  to  the  jail,  where  she  in- 
sisted upon  seeing  her  husband. 

"Oh,  Larry!  surely  you  didn't  have  anything  to 
do  with  this  awful  crime!"  she  cried,  as  she  clung 
to  him  convulsively. 

"You're  right — I  didn't,  Mary.  I  know  no  more 
about  it  than  you  do." 

"But,  Larry — they  say  Mr.  Goodwin  may  die!" 
she  sobbed. 

"I  don't  think  it's  as  bad  as  that — at  least  I  was 
given  to  understand  it  wasn't." 

"But  sometimes  people  do  die  from  such  blows," 
went  on  the  wife.  "And  if  that  should  happen,  and 

they  found  you  guilty "  she  could  not  go  on, 

but  buried  her  face  on  his  shoulder. 

"Come,  come,  Mary,  brace  up.  I'm  not  guilty, 
and  I'll  get  out  of  this  somehow,"  he  answered 
kindly,  stroking  her  hair.  Nevertheless,  he  felt 
mighty  blue,  and  wondered  how  the  matter  would 
end. 

The  reporter  for  the  local  paper  had  made  good 
use  of  his  time,  and  the  next  issue  came  out  with 


Margaret  Makes  a  Move  133 

staring  headlines  concerning  the  crime  that  had 
been  committed,  and  telling  of  how  Cole  was  sus- 
pected and  had  been  placed  under  arrest. 

Two  men  in  that  community  read  this  account 
with  keen  interest,  commingled  with  great  satisfac- 
tion. Those  two  men  were  Mike  Breen  and  Ike 
Shacker,  and  they  met  in  a  saloon  often  frequented 
by  them  to  talk  the  matter  over. 

"This  will  place  Goodwin  in  a  hole,  even  if  it 
don't  put  him  in  the  cemetery,"  was  Mike  Breen's 
coarse  remark. 

"Right  you  are,"  answered  Shacker.  "If  he 
isn't  on  hand  to  manage  things,  and  they  put  Cole 
in  jail  for  awhile,  that  railroad  contract  will  be 
sure  to  fall  through — and  he'll  lose  his  twenty 
thousand  dollars." 

"And  it'll  serve  him  right  for  interferin'  with 
other  men's  business,"  came  from  Breen. 

Several  days  went  by,  and  then  Doctor  Shepard 
decided  to  have  an  ambulance  take  Ross  from  the 
Peabody  farm  to  his  own  home,  both  he  and  the 
trained  nurse  accompanying  the  sufferer,  who  was 
still  unconscious. 

"It's  going  to  prove  quite  a  complicated  case," 
announced  the  physician,  on  the  day  after  the  ar- 
rival at  the  Goodwin  home.  "But,  thank  God,  I 
think  I  can  pull  him  through." 


134      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"But  the  fever,  Doctor "  began  Jennie  Mar- 
tinson. 

"Yes,  he's  going  to  have  some  fever — I  can  see 
that.     We'll  have  to  keep  it  down  as  much  as  we    f 
can." 

They  were  right  about  the  fever,  which  came  on 
somewhat  rapidly,  and  a  few  days  later  Ross  was 
raging  and  doing  his  best  to  throw  himself  off  his 
bed,  and  Jennie  and  the  housekeeper,  occasionally 
aided  by  Jerry,  had  all  they  could  do  at  times  to 
manage  him. 

Of  course  Margaret  had  heard  all  about  the  at- 
tack, and  when  Ross  was  brought  home  from  the 
Peabody  place,  she  sent  their  man  around  to  get 
some  particulars  regarding  him.  The  man  re- 
ported that  Mr.  Goodwin  was  in  bad  shape,  and 
thereupon,  that  evening,  Margaret  called  on  Doctor 
Shepard. 

"No,  I  don't  think  he's  going  to  die,  or  anything 
like  that,"  said  the  physician  kindly,  in  reply  to  her 
question.  "But  he  got  a  terrible  blow  on  the  head, 
and  now  he  is  developing  a  fever;  but  after  that 
goes  away,  I  think  he  will  pull  through  all  right." 

"Oh,  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  you  think  he'll 
pull  through,"  returned  Margaret.  "It  would  be 
dreadful  to  have  him  die — and  just  when  he  was 
trying  so  hard  to  establish  himself  in  business." 


Margaret  Makes  a  Move  135 

"The  Goodwins  come  from  good,  sturdy  stock, 
and  you  can't  kill  them  off  so  easily,"  remarked  the 
old  family  physician  grimly.  "He's  a  good  deal 
better  stock  than  most  yeung  fellows  I  know,"  he 
added  significantly.  In  his  kindly  way  he  had  noted 
Ross'  regard  for  Margaret,  and  he  was  not  suited 
at  all  to  learn  that  the  girl  was  so  often  seen  in  the 
company  of  his  young  rival,  Doctor  Parmalee. 

On  the  day  after  this  interview  with  the  doctor, 
Margaret  had  occasion  to  call  on  her  uncle,  Thomas 
Poole,  who  was  a  lawyer  in  Cressing.  She  went  on 
an  errand  for  her  mother,  and  found  her  uncle  in 
his  office,  deep  in  conversation  with  one  of  his 
clients.  Not  wishing  to  disturb  her  relative  at  that 
time,  she  seated  herself  in  an  anteroom  and  picked 
up  a  newspaper  lying  there. 

"Yes,  it's  tough  on  Goodwin  in  more  ways  than 
one,"  she  heard  the  strange  man  in  the  inner  office 
say.  "He  may  recover,  but,  if  he  does,  they  tell 
me  it  will  take  a  long  time.  And  in  the  meanwhile, 
this  contracting  business  of  his  may  go  to  the  dogs." 

"Hasn't  he  got  any  good  foreman  to  look  after 
his  interests?"  demanded  Margaret's  uncle. 

"He  did  have  two  good  men,  so  I  understand. 
But  for  some  reason  or  other  he  discharged  one  of 
the  men  only  a  short  time  ago,  and  now  the  other 
man — the  best  man  old  John  Goodwin  had,  so  I 


136      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

am  told — has  been  arrested  for  this  attack,  and  as 
a  consequence  the  work  on  the  contract  is  about  at 
a  standstill,  the  other  fellows  not  knowing  how  to 
proceed."  And  then  the  speaker  went  on  telling 
Thomas  Poole  many  things  which  neither  he  nor 
Margaret  had  known  concerning  the  railroad  con- 
tract, and  of  which  so  far  the  newspapers  had  said 
nothing. 

The  girl,  with  strained  ears,  took  in  every  word, 
and  when  her  uncle's  client  came  out  and  went  on 
his  way,  the  color  in  her  cheeks  and  the  glow  in  her 
eyes  showed  how  much  she  was  interested. 

"Hello,  sweetheart!"  cried  her  uncle  affection- 
ately, as  he  kissed  her.  "Come  in  to  take  your  first 
lesson  as  a  young  lawyer?"  He  had  maintained 
jokingly  for  years  that  if  Margaret  would  only  give 
up  singing,  she  might  settle  down  and  become  a 
good  female  lawyer. 

"Yes,  I've  come  in  to  take  a  first  lesson  in  law, 
Uncle  Tom,"  she  answered  quickly.  "But  first  I 
have  an  errand  to  do  for  mother,"  and  she  ex- 
plained what  it  was. 

"And  what's  this  lesson  in  law  you  want  to 
learn?"  demanded  the  uncle,  after  the  other  matter 
had  been  disposed  of. 

"It's  about  that  railroad  contract  that  Mr.  Good- 
win is  interested  in,"  she  answered.  "If  he  is 


Margaret  Makes  a  Move  137 

under  a  bond  of  twenty  thousand  dollars  to  fulfil 
that  contract,  if  he  can't  fulfil  it,  will  he  lose  his 
money?" 

"He  surely  will  unless  he  can  make  the  courts 
believe  that  he  ought  not  to,"  and  her  uncle's  eyes 
twinkled. 

"Now,  Uncle  Tom,  do  be  serious,  for  this  is  a 
serious  matter.  Ross  Goodwin  hasn't  got  so  much 
money  that  he  can  throw  twenty  thousand  dollars 
away." 

"You  and  he  are  pretty  good  friends,  aren't  you, 
Margy?" 

"Yes,  we  were  old  schoolmates.  And  I  would 
like  very  much  to  see  Ross  get  along,  even  though  I 
don't  at  all  approve  of  his  going  into  such  a  busi- 
ness as  that,  when  he  might  have  been  a  doctor  or 
a  college  professor,  or  even  a  lawyer  like  you." 

"  'Even'  is  good,"  laughed  Thomas  Poole.  "How- 
ever, about  his  business — every  man  has  a  right  to 
go  into  what  he  pleases,  so  long  as  it  is  honest.  I 
never  thought  any  the  less  of  John  Goodwin  be- 
cause he  was  a  contractor.  Fact  is,  he  was  a  much 
better  man  than  a  whole  lot  of  rascally  lawyers 
and  second-rate  doctors  and  professors.  But  what 
were  you  driving  at?" 

"I  want  you  to  find  out  something  for  me,  Uncle 
Tom,"  returned  the  girl  quickly.  "From  what  I  can 


138      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

hear,  Ross  Goodwin  depended  a  great  deal  on  this 
Larry  Cole,  his  foreman.  Now  Cole  is  in  jail  ac- 
cused of  this  crime,  but  he  declares  that  he  is  inno- 
cent. Can't  you  find  out  something  about  this? 
And  if  he  really  is  innocent,  why  can't  he  get  out 
on  bail,  or  something  like  that,  and  take  charge  of 
matters  until  Ross  gets  better?" 

"Yes,  but  we  don't  know  that  he  is  innocent. 
By  the  account  in  the  paper  it  looks  as  if  he  was 
guilty.  They  found  five  hundred  and  some  odd 
dollars  on  his  person,  and  he  has  refused  to  tell 
where  and  when  he  got  the  money.  It  was  known 
that  Goodwin  carried  at  least  two  thousand  dollars 
in  cash  with  him.  The  police  theory  is  that  Cole, 
aided  possibly  by  some  of  his  cronies,  made  the 
attack  and  got  the  money  and,  possibly,  Cole  divided 
the  amount  with  the  other  fellows." 

"But,  Uncle  Tom,  won't  you  at  least  go  and  see 
Cole  and  have  a  talk  with  him?"  said  the  girl.  "I 
— I  want  you  to  do  this  for  my  sake,  and  you 
needn't  say  a  word  about  it  to  anybody,"  and  she 
blushed  deeply. 

"All  right,  Margy.  You  know  I  never  could  re- 
fuse you  anything,"  he  answered  promptly.  "I'll 
look  into  the  matter.  But  don't  expect  too  much  of 
me." 

"Of  course,  I  am  sorry  to  take  up  your  time, 


Margaret  Makes  a  Move  139 

Uncle  Tom,  for  I  know  you  are  a  very  busy  man." 

Her  uncle  looked  at  her  quizzically. 

"So  very  deeply  interested  in  Ross  Goodwin, 
eh  ?"  he  chuckled,  placing  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"Perhaps  I'm  not  as  deeply  interested  as  you 
think,"  she  cried,  somewhat  defiantly.  "I  might 
be — if  it  wasn't  for  the  fact  that  he  has  gone  into 
this  contracting  business  and  thrown  away  all  his 
other  good  chances  for  getting  along  in  the  world." 

"But  if  he  makes  good,  Margy " 

"Oh,  I've  heard  that  before.  I  don't  want  to 
hear  it  again,"  cried  the  girl.  And  then,  after  a 
few  words  more,  she  left  the  lawyer's  offices. 

Forty-eight  hours  later,  and  through  a  process 
known  to  less  than  half  a  dozen  persons,  Larry 
Cole  was  released  on  bail. 


CHAPTER  XII 

AS   IN    A    DREAM 

IT  must  not  be  imagined  that  Ross  had  an  easy 
time  of  it  recovering  from  the  dastardly  attack 
which  had  been  made  upon  him.  Dr.  Shepard, 
aided  by  the  trained  nurse  and  those  in  the  house- 
hold, had  their  hands  full,  taking  care  of  him  dur- 
ing the  time  when  his  fever  was  at  its  worst.  The 
crisis  was  a  day  of  keen  anxiety  for  everybody,  and 
all  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when  it  was  over  and 
the  physician  announced  that  the  recovery  would 
be  only  a  question  of  time. 

The  many  days  of  his  sickness  was  to  Ross  like 
some  terrible  nightmare.  Time  and  again  he  im- 
agined himself  riding  through  a  furious  storm,  and 
then  he  would  find  himself  deep  down  in  some 
trench  rapidly  filling  with  water,  and  battling  madly 
to  save  himself  from  drowning.  Occasionally  he 
would  see  Margaret  looking  at  him,  and  he  would 
throw  out  his  arms  to  her  only  to  have  the  girl 
turn  her  back  upon  him  and  fade  from  view. 

When  at  last  the  worst  was  over  and  he  opened 
his  eyes,  he  was  in  a  room  bright  with  sunshine 
and  sweet  with  the  perfume  of  flowers  that  rested 

140 


As  in  a  Dream  141 

in  a  vase  on  the  table  before  a  window.  Some- 
body was  moving  around  the  apartment,  but  he  was 
too  weak  to  speak,  or  to  recognize  who  it  was. 

Then  followed  another  dream,  in  which  he  was 
back  on  the  edge  of  the  rocky  cliff  and  fighting 
desperately  against  somebody  who  was  trying  to 
hurl  him  to  the  bottom.  The  rain  was  again  dash- 
ing into  his  face,  and  somebody  was  bending  over 
him  with  one  hand  at  his  throat  and  the  other  hand 
going  through  his  pockets. 

When  his  mind  cleared  once  more,  the  room  was 
dark,  with  a  shaded  lamp  resting  on  the  table.  In 
a  rocking-chair  sat  a  young  woman  in  hospital 
white,  a  face  and  form  that  were  somehow  strangely 
familiar.  She  was  gazing  at  him  sleepily,  but 
roused  up  immediately  when  she  noted  that  his  eyes 
were  open. 

"See  here —  '  began  Ross,  and  tried  to  raise 
himself  up.  Then  he  realized  how  weak  he  was, 
and  sank  back  again. 

At  once  the  trained  nurse  came  to  his  side. 

"You'll  have  to  keep  quiet,  Ross,"  she  said,  in 
a  soothing  voice. 

"Why,  hello,  Jennie!"  he  cried  in  weak  and 
strangely  unnatural  tones.  "What  brought  you 
here  ?  Where  am  I  ?  What's  happened  ?" 

"Keep  quiet,  Ross,  that's  a  good  boy.    You  must 


142      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

not  excite  yourself ;"  and  the  nurse  took  hold  of  his 
hand  and  placed  her  other  hand  upon  his  forehead. 

Ross  wanted  to  ask  more  questions,  but  his 
strength  seemed  to  leave  him  again,  and  he  dozed 
off  into  a  troubled  sleep.  Then  came  morning,  and 
with  the  rising  sun  he  gazed  around  in  bewilder- 
ment. 

The  nurse  was  gone,  and  in  her  place  sat  Jerry, 
watching  him  with  a  face  full  of  honest  concern. 
Each  looked  at  the  other  for  fully  a  minute  before 
Ross  spoke. 

"Jerry,  is  that  you?"  he  asked,  faintly. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Ross,"  was  the  quick  return.  "Praise 
God,  you're  in  your  right  mind  again." 

"Right  mind?    What  do  you  mean?" 

"You've  been  sick  a  long  spell;  didn't  you  know 
it?  An'  you  was  out  o'  your  mind  part  o'  the 
time." 

Ross  drew  a  long  breath. 

"How  long  have  I  been  sick?" 

"It's  most  a  month  now,  sir.  But  don't  talk,  sir. 
The  doctor  said  as  how  it  wouldn't  be  good  for  you 
to  say  too  much  when  you  fust  come  around." 

"A  month !"  The  young  contractor  repeated  the 
words  to  himself  several  times  before  he  realized 
their  importance.  "A  month!  Jerry,  have  I  really 
been  here  a  month?" 


As  in  a  Dream  143 

"Sorry  to  say  you  have,  Mr.  Ross.  But  don't 
worry;  it's  all  right,  sir." 

"I  know.    But  that  railroad  contract " 

"It's  going  along  swimmingly,  sir;  leastwise,  that 
is  what  Mr.  Cole  said,  sir." 

"Oh!  so  he  has  gone  ahead?  I'm  glad  of  that." 
And  now  Ross  sank  back  again,  exhausted,  but  much 
relieved. 

It  astonished  him  to  think  that  he  had  been  sick 
a  month,  and  he  was  equally  amazed  on  putting  his 
hand  to  his  head,  to  find  some  of  the  hair  shaved 
off  and  a  large  plaster  fastened  to  his  skull.  He 
tried  to  think  it  out,  but  it  made  him  feverish;  and 
in  a  blind,  uncertain  way  he  heard  somebody  scold- 
ing Jerry  for  talking  too  much.  Then  the  family 
doctor  bent  over  him  and  made  him  take  a  dose  of 
medicine  that  was  very  bitter.  But  it  braced  him 
up  and  put  him  into  a  sleep  that  was  very  near 
normal. 

The  next  day  he  was  surprised  to  find  himself 
confronted  by  Jennie  Martinson,  who  assisted  him 
to  sit  up  in  bed. 

"It's  mighty  good  of  you  to  come  and  take  care 
of  me,"  he  said  warmly.  "I'm  sure  I've  had  the 
very  best  of  nursing." 

"Well,  I  won't  deny,  Ross,  that  I've  done  the 
best  I  could,"  was  the  reply.  "And  now  you've  got 


144      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

to  do  your  share  by  getting  well  just  as  quickly  as 
you  can,  so  my  work  will  count  for  something." 

"Sure,  I'm  going  to  get  well.  I  can't  understand 
it  at  all  that  I've  been  here  a  month  or  so.  It  seems 
to  me  as  if  I  was  knocked  out  only  yesterday.  I 
want  to  talk  to  Cole.  Can  you  send  for  him?" 

"You  are  not  to  see  anybody  to-day,  Ross.  It's 
Doctor  Shepard's  orders.  Perhaps,  if  you  feel 
strong  enough,  you  can  see  Mr.  Cole  to-morrow." 

"Oh,  I'm  well  enough  to  see  him  to-day,"  returned 
the  young  contractor.  But  the  nurse  was  obdurate, 
although  she  did  her  best  to  ease  his  mind  and  keep 
him  quiet. 

The  next  morning  found  him  much  stronger,  and 
he  insisted  upon  it  that  they  must  send  for  his  fore- 
man. He  must  know  from  Cole's  lips  that  the 
work  on  the  railroad  contract  was  not  dragging. 
Sick  as  he  was,  Ross  gritted  his  teeth  and  registered 
a  vow  that  that  contract  must  be  fulfilled,  in  spite  of 
the  wicked  doings  of  his  enemies. 

For  the  past  was  now  becoming  clear  to  him. 
He  remembered  the  ride  in  the  rain,  the  stop  at  the 
cliff,  and  the  shadowy  outline  of  that  form  that  had 
hurled  the  big  stone  down  upon  his  head.  He  did 
not  know  what  man  had  done  this,  but  he  felt  that 
it  was  an  attempt  to  keep  him  from  doing  what  he 
had  set  out  to  accomplish.  He  did  not  remember 
about  the  money  he  had  carried. 


As  in  a  Dream  145 

Cole  came  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  doctor 
cautioned  him  not  to  talk  too  much.  He  was  in 
his  working  clothes,  and  washed  up  in  the  bath- 
room before  entering  the  bedchamber. 

"Glad  to  see  you've  got  around  to  yourself  again," 
said  the  foreman,  somewhat  awkwardly,  as  he  took 
Ross'  hand.  "You've  had  a  tight  squeeze  of  it." 

"So  they  tell  me,  Cole,"  was  the  slow  answer. 
"How  is  the  work  getting  on?  They  told  me  you 
were  hard  at  it." 

"I'm  doing  as  well  as  possible,  Mr.  Goodwin." 
Cole  cleared  his  throat.  "You  see,  we  had  to  lose 
some  time  after  you  were  hurt.  Nobody — that  is 
— everything  was  upset." 

"Oh,  I  can  understand  that.  But  it's  all  right 
now,  isn't  it?" 

"Just  about.  But  you  don't  want  to  talk  business 
yet.  Time  to  do  that  when  you  can  get  on  your 
legs." 

"I  suppose  so."  Ross  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  "Did 
they  catch  the  rascal?" 

"What  rascal?" 

"The  rascal  who  threw  the  rock  at  me." 

"Are  you  sure  somebody  threw  a  rock  at  you?" 
Cole  was  all  attention  now. 

"Am  I  sure?  Certainly  I  am.  I  saw  him,  even 
though  it  was  very  dark.  I  yelled  to  him,  and  then 
he  let  drive." 


146      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Who  was  it?" 

"I  don't  know.  I've  been  trying  to  think,  but  it 
only  makes  my  head  ache." 

"Then  you  had  better  stop  thinking."  Cole  took 
Ross'  hand  again,  "I'll  come  to-morrow,  when  you 
feel  stronger." 

"What!  you  are  not  going  yet?  You  mustn't! 
I  want  to  ask  about  the  work." 

"Not  to-day,  Mr.  Goodwin,"  interposed  Doctor 
Shepard.  "He  can  come  to-morrow.  You  must 
rest  now,  otherwise  you'll  be  in  a  fever  again." 

And  Ross  was  glad  to  rest,  as  he  found  out 
when  Cole  had  departed.  His  poor  head  was  in  a 
whirl,  and  it  kept  in  that  state  for  several  hours. 

"You  must  keep  quiet,  Ross,  otherwise  you'll 
be  sure  to  have  a  relapse,"  admonished  Jennie  Mar- 
tinson. 

"Oh,  don't  worry  about  me,"  he  returned;  never- 
theless, he  was  glad  to  rest,  and  for  several  hours 
he  had  little  to  say. 

The  next  day  he  sat  up  and  his  appetite  returned, 
so  that  he  could  eat  a  fairly  good  meal.  Just  after 
lunch  he  heard  the  doorbell  ring,  and  heard  a  voice 
below  that  caused  him  to  start.  Margaret  was 
there,  talking  to  the  trained  nurse,  who  had  just 
gone  below  to  get  something. 

"How  is  he  doing  to-day?"  the  visitor  asked  of 
the  nurse. 


As  in  a  Dream  147 

"Oh,  he's  coming  along  pretty  well,"  was  the 
reply.  "You  know  I've  made  up  my  mind  that  I'm 
going  to  pull  him  through.  We  can't  afford  to  lose 
any  of  our  old  schoolmates,"  and  Jennnie  Martin- 
son smiled  broadly. 

"I  suppose  he  has  been  a  great  care,  Jennie?" 

"Well,  you'd  think  so — especially  when  he  had 
that  high  fever.  Once  or  twice  I  thought  he  would 
jump  out  of  bed  and  out  of  the  window." 

"Oh,  dear,  how  dreadful!"  exclaimed  Margaret. 
She  looked  at  the  trained  nurse  rather  sharply.  "I 
suppose  you  expect  to  stay  here  quite  a  while  yet?" 

"That  depends  on  what  the  doctor  and  Ross  have 
to  say  about  it,"  answered  the  trained  nurse.  "I'll 
stay  just  as  long  as  they  want  me  to.  You  see, 
Ross  and  I  have  always  been  very  good  friends, 
and  I'd  do  this  much  for  him  even  if  I  wasn't  paid 
for  it." 

"Do  you — you  think  he'd  care  to  see  me?"  Mar- 
garet went  on,  somewhat  falteringly. 

Ross,  who  was  leaning  over  the  side  of  his  bed 
listening,  strained  his  ears  to  catch  the  reply,  but 
could  not. 

"Come  up!"  he  called,  as  loudly  as  he  could. 
"Come  up,  Margy!"  and  soon  he  heard  Margaret's 
foot  on  the  stairs.  The  next  moment  she  entered 
the  room,  but  paused  near  the  doorway,  gazing  at 
him  in  an  uncertain  way. 


148       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"It's  very  good  of  you  to  come,"  he  said,  before 
she  could  speak.  "Very  good,  indeed." 

"I'm  so  glad,  Ross,  to  see  you  getting  better," 
said  she,  as  she  took  his  hand  and  pressed  it  tightly. 
"I  was  so  afraid " 

"That  I  would  cave  in?"  he  finished,  as  she 
paused.  "Oh,  you  can't  get  rid  of  a  bad  cent  as 
easily  as  that."  He  laughed  shortly  at  the  old  joke. 
"I'm  tougher  than  you  think,  Margy,"  he  went  on, 
although  it  took  almost  all  his  strength  to  say  it. 

"How  you  have  suffered,  Ross !  At  first  we  were 
all  afraid  you  were  going  to  die." 

He  drank  in  the  words  eagerly,  gazing  earnestly 
in  her  face  in  the  meanwhile.  Then  she  had  taken 
an  interest  from  the  start?  Perhaps  she  had  been 
there  before,  when  he  was  unable  to  recognize  her. 

"It's  like  a  dream  to  me — the  storm,  the  ride, 
the  attack,  and  all,"  he  said,  after  a  pause. 

"The  attack?"  she  repeated,  and  her  face  paled 
a  little.  "Are  you  sure  you  were  attacked?" 

"Why,  certainly.    What  did  you  think?" 

"I  thought  the  rock  came  down  on  your  head  of 
itself." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  Some  rascal  followed  me  up 
and  attacked  me.  I  saw  him,  but  it  was  too  dark 
to  recognize  him." 

"And  was  it  that  man  who  robbed  you?" 

"Was  I  robbed?     That's  news  to  me.     But,  of 


As  in  a  Dream  149 

course,  the  rascal  would  rob  me  if  he  was  wicked 
enough  to  attempt  my  life." 

"You  were  found  with  your  money,  your  watch 
and  your  diamond  scarf-pin  gone.  But  we — that  is, 
some  of  us — had  an  idea  that  somebody  had  come 
along  and  found  you  unconscious " 

Ross  shook  his  head.  "No;  somebody  attacked 
me.  I  am  as  sure  of  that  as  I  am  that  I  am  sitting 
in  this  bed." 

"It  is  certainly  strange." 

"I  don't  think  so." 

"You  do  not?  Why,  the  country  was  searched 
around  for  tramps  and  footpads,  and  the  like,  but 
nobody  was  found." 

"That  deed  was  done  by  somebody  who  knew 
me  and  who  knew  folks  around  here,  Margy.  I'm 
not  saying  much  yet,  but  I  think  I  can  lay  my  hand 
on  the  rascal  when  the  proper  time  comes." 

She  gave  a  sudden  shiver.  "You  don't  sus- 
pect  But,  no;  I  can't  say  it,  for  it  couldn't  be 

true — not  after  what  he  has  done  lately." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?" 

"It  doesn't  matter." 

"But  you  said  something  about  suspecting  some- 
body. I  do  suspect  somebody.  I'll  tell  you  in  secret, 
if  you  want  to  know." 

"As  you  please,  Ross."  She  was  all  curiosity 
now. 


150       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"I  suspect  a  fellow  named  Pat  O'Mara.  He  used 
to  work  for  me,  and  I  discharged  him.  He  is  thick 
with  Michael  Breen  and  Isaac  Shacker,  my  rivals 
in  the  contracting  business."  He  gazed  at  her 
keenly  as  he  uttered  the  last  two  words,  and  she 
flushed  up.  "The  three  of  them  would  do  a  good 
deal  to  put  me  out  of  business." 

"I  believe  you,  Ross.  I've  heard  in  the  town  how 
they  fought  you  when  the  bids  were  being  made." 

"This  O'Mara  is  a  fellow  who  has  little  conscience 
— I  saw  that  from  the  start.  He  was  going  to  take 
some  of  the  Italians  away  from  me  if  he  could.  I 
may  be  mistaken,  but  I  think  he  attacked  me,  and 
for  a  twofold  purpose.  To  get  his  hands  on  the 
fifteen  hundred  dollars  in  cash  that  I  carried,  and  to 
knock  me  out,  so  that  my  contract  with  the  railroad 
company  would  go  to  pieces." 

"It  certainly  seems  reasonable  enough,"  the  girl 
mused.  She  thought  of  the  meeting  between  Breen 
and  O'Mara  at  the  stage  door  to  the  concert  hall, 
and  of  the  anonymous  letter  she  had  sent  to  Ross. 

"The  three  of  those  fellows  are  hand-in-glove 
against  me,"  went  on  the  young  contractor.  O'Mara 
is  the  tool,  and  I  fancy  Breen  and  Shacker  are 
glad  to  use  him  for  their  dirty  work.  When  I  get 
around  again,  I  am  going  to  set  a  private  detective 
on  O'Mara's  track.  But  don't  say  anything  of  this 
to  outsiders,  Margy." 


"Your  coming  has  made  me  feel  like  a  new  man." 

(See  page  151.) 


As  in  a  Dream  151 

"You  may  rest  assured  that  I  will  not,  Ross." 
She  stroked  the  thin  hand  that  lay  on  the  coverlet. 
"But  you  must  not  worry  or  excite  yourself.  If 
you  do  you'll  never  get  strong.  You  have  talked 
far  too  much  already." 

"Don't  you  worry;  I've  got  lots  of  backbone  left 
yet."  His  face  brightened  into  something  of  the 
old-time  smile.  "Your  coming  has  made  me  feel 
like  a  new  man." 

Another  ring  at  the  doorbell  interrupted  the 
conversation  at  this  point.  It  was  Doctor  Shepard, 
and  before  the  physician  could  enter  the  room  Mar- 
garet took  her  departure. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IN  HARNESS  ONCE  MORE 

IT  astonished  everybody  around  him  to  see  how 
quickly  Ross  recovered  after  once  he  was  able  to 
sit  up.  His  fever  was  completely  gone,  and  his 
appetite  became  of  the  best.  Doctor ,  Shepard,  who 
had  attended  the  Goodwin  family  for  years,  was 
outspoken  in  his  surprise  and  delight. 

"You've  got  a  constitution  worth  having,  young 
man,"  he  said.  "Barring  accidents,  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  you  live  to  be  a  hundred." 

As  soon  as  he  was  able,  Ross  had  Jerry  drive  him 
out  to  look  at  the  work  on  the  railroad.  Matters 
were  moving  along  in  fairly  good  shape,  but  not 
as  much  had  been  accomplished  as  he  had  hoped 
for,  or  as  much  as  those  around  his  sick  bed  had 
led  him  to  believe.  He  now  realized  why  Cole  had 
hesitated  to  go  into  details  when  questioned. 

In  looking  over  the  Italians,  he  was  surprised  to 
see  that  more  than  half  of  Gorgi's  gang  were  miss- 
ing, and  that  six  of  the  other  gang — the  one  under 
Cole  himself — had  deserted. 

"Where  are  your  other  men,  Gorgi?"  he  de- 
manded, after  calling  the  Italian  to  him. 

152 


In  Harness  Once  More  153 

"Udder  men  da  no  staya  wid  me,"  was  the  an- 
swer, with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders.  "Da  say  de 
job  busta  up,  wid  Boss  Ross  Goodwin  in  da  sicka 
bed  an'  he  Boss  Cole  in  da  jaila." 

"Boss  Cole  in  the  jail?"  ejaculated  Ross.  "What 
are  you  talking  about?  Are  you  drunk?" 

"Hava  only  one  drinka  da  beer  to-day,  boss." 

"But  you  just  said  Cole  had  been  in  jail?" 

"Dat's  right,  boss.  Yoii  not  knowa  dat?  He  in 
da  jaila  long  time,  yes." 

"What  for?" 

Again  the  Italian  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Dat  funny  lika  de  dev,  you  not  knowa  him! 
Da  say  he  strika  you  down  an'  roba  you." 

"He?    Cole?    Who  in  thunder  said  that?" 

"Da  police." 

"Well,  of  all  crazy  things !  Jerry,  drive  me  over 
to  where  Cole  is  working.  I  must  know  all  about 
this  at  once.  Why  didn't  he  say  something  at  the 
house  of  this?" 

"Reckon  he  didn't  want  to  excite  you,  Mr.  Ross. 
You  had  a  hard  enough  time  of  it  getting  well." 

"The  police  must  be  a  lot  of  lunatics,"  was  Ross' 
comment,  and  then  he  said  no  more. 

He  found  it  hard  work  to  pump  the  truth  out  of 
Cole — how  the  police  had  placed  him  under  arrest, 
charged  with  robbery  and  attempted  murder,  and 


154       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

how  they  had  found  the  money  Ross  had  given  him. 

"And  how  did  you  get  out?  Did  they  set  you 
free,  or  are  you  under  bail?"  the  young  contractor 
asked.  And  then  he  went  on  impulsively :  "Of 
course,  you  know  I  believe  in  you,  Cole.  This 
charge  against  you  is  the  silliest  thing  that  ever 
happened." 

"I  felt  you'd  say  that.  If  I  hadn't  felt  it  I 
wouldn't  be  at  work  here." 

"But  how  did  you  get  out?" 

"I'm  on  bail." 

"I  see." 

"My  being  locked  up  and  you  knocked  out  played 
the  deuce  with  the  job,"  went  on  the  foreman, 
hastily,  for  he  was  afraid  Ross  would  question  him 
further  about  the  bail.  "Breen  took  some  of  the 
men  and  Shacker  took  the  others.  Gorgi  was  going 
to  leave,  but  I  got  him  to  stick  at  the  last  minute. 
Of  course,  everything  was  at  a  standstill  those 
days,  and,  as  yet,  we  haven't  been  able  to  catch  up, 
although  I've  tried  my  best." 

"Was  O'Mara  around?" 

"No;  he  has  disappeared  completely." 

"Humph!" 

"You  needn't  suspect  that  fellow,  Mr.  Goodwin. 
For,  if  you  do,  it  won't  do  any  good." 

"Why  not?" 


In  Harness  Once  More  155 

"He  wasn't  in  either  Durham  or  Cressing  the 
night  you  were  struck  down,  and  Breen  swears  that 
he  and  O'Mara  were  in  Philadelphia  buying  up  a 
lot  of  second-hand  tools." 

This  announcement  was  a  setback  to  the  young 
contractor.  Perhaps,  after  all,  his  assailant  had 
been  nobody  more  than  an  ordinary  tramp  or  foot- 
pad. 

"Well,  I  shall  think  O'Mara  guilty  until  I  learn 
otherwise,"  he  said.  "But  don't  whisper  this  to 
anybody  around  here,  Cole."  And  then  the  talk 
was  shifted  to  the  question  of  getting  more  men, 
and  also  obtaining  the  steam  shovel  for  the  deepest 
of  the  cuts,  and  the  drill  with  which  to  begin  work 
on  the  rocky  cliff. 

"I'll  be  glad  to  see  that  cliff  go,"  said  Ross,  with 
a  sorry  laugh.  "I'd  hate  to  pass  that  way,  on  an- 
other dark  night." 

"Well,  we  can't  get  that  drill  too  quick,  nor  the 
steam  shovel,  either,"  returned  the  foreman. 
"We've  got  to  hump  all  around,  if  we  want  to  put 
this  contract  through  on  time." 

"It's  going  through  on  time,  if  I  have  to  get  twice 
the  workmen  we  now  have.  Cole,  you  may  think 
as  you  please,  but  the  attack  on  me  was  nothing  but 
a  move  of  our  common  enemy.  They  want  me  to 
fall  down  on  this  job.  And  I'm  not  going  to  fall 


156      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

down."  All  of  Ross'  former  earnestness  was  as- 
serting itself. 

"I'd  like  to  know  where  you  are  going  to  get  the 
men." 

"I'll  advertise  for  them." 

"I've  put  out  all  those  advertisements  you  men- 
tioned." 

"And  the  result?" 

"Some  men  came  to  Durham  and  Cressing.  I 
didn't  see  them  at  once  because  I  got  a  business  note 
calling  me  to  Finchville.  The  note  was  a  fake. 
When  I  got  back  I  found  that  the  newcomers  had 
been  scooped  in  by  agents  of  Breen  and  Shacker. 
I  know  I  ought  to  be  kicked  full  of  holes  for  mak- 
ing such  a  mess  of  it,  but  that's  the  truth  of  the 
matter." 

"Have  any  other  men  come  since?" 

"Three,  and  they  are  to  work  in  Gorgi's  gang. 
"There  is  another  thing  we've  got  to  fight,"  went 
on  Cole.  "It's  about  the  meanest  thing  I've  struck 
yet.  I  didn't  want  to  mention  it  before,  because  I 
knew  it  would  make  you  mad  and  excited." 

"Well,  what  is  it?  I  reckon  I  can  stand  most 
anything  now." 

"You  know  that  the  Italians  are  in  one^set  of 
buildings,  up  near  the  creek,  and  the  Poles  are  in 
another.  Well,  Shacker  had  a  Pole  who  got  sick. 


In  Harness  Once  More  157 

I  reckon  he  knew  what  was  wrong,  and  he  sent 
the  fellow  to  the  Poles'  headquarters,  to  his  second 
cousin,  or  somebody  like  that.  The  fellow  developed 
chicken-pox — everybody  thought  it  was  smallpox 
at  first — and  we  had  to  fumigate,  and  send  the  man 
to  the  hospital,  and  all  that.  Now  they've  spread 
the  report  that  the  house  is  full  of  smallpox  germs, 
and  the  Poles  won't  go  near  it." 

"Did  Shacker  spread  the  report?" 

"I'm  pretty  sure  he  did." 

Ross  clinched  his  fists.  "The  contemptible  sneak ! 
It's  just  like  him!  For  two  pins  I'd  sue  him  for 
damages." 

"He  ought  to  be  sued.  But  in  court  you've  got 
to  prove  your  case,  and  that  isn't  always  so  easy. 
I  reckon  I'll  have  my  hands  full  trying  to  prove  my 
own  innocence  when  I  come  to  trial." 

"I'll  be  a  witness  for  the  defense,"  laughed  Ross. 
"Don't  you  worry,  Cole ;  the  prosecutor  isn't  a  fool, 
even  if  the  conceited  chief  of  police  is.  Besides, 
I'm  going  to  have  O'Mara  shadowed,  alibi  or  no 
alibi." 

It  was  well  for  Ross  that  he  had  a  constitution 
of  iron,  or  he  would  have  surely  broken  down  with 
overwork  during  the  two  weeks  that  followed. 
Against  the  advice  of  the  family  physician,  he  kept 
going  as  if  no  such  thing  as  a  spell  of  fever  had  ever 


158       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

affected  him.  He  inspected  the  work,  and  gave 
orders  to  go  ahead  faster  than  ever,  the  present 
gangs  to  work  overtime,  with  extra  pay.  He  visited 
Pittsburg  and  other  cities  in  quest  of  men,  and  he 
ordered  the  steam  shovel  and  the  rock  drill  that 
were  so  much  needed. 

The  steam  shovel  came  when  ordered,  but  about 
the  drill  there  was  some  delay,  and  there  was  like- 
wise delay  in  getting  the  dynamite  and  nitro- 
glycerine that  had  been  ordered.  Of  laborers,  the 
young  contractor  succeeded  in  drumming  up  twenty- 
six;  and,  in  order  that  they  might  not  be  coaxed 
away  by  the  agents  of  Breen,  Shacker  and  other 
contractors,  he  brought  them  to  Durham  in  person. 

The  collection  was  a  motley  one,  consisting  of 
Italians,  Poles  and  Hungarians.  They  came  through 
on  a  smoking  car,  and  Ross  was  heartily  glad  when 
the  train  rolled  into  the  Durham  depot  and  he  could 
get  out  into  the  fresh  air. 

As  he  stepped  from  the  train,  with  his  business 
suit  somewhat  rumpled  and  soiled,  he  came  face  to 
face  with  Margaret,  dressed  in  blue  silk  and  wear- 
ing a  cluster  of  small  roses  on  her  breast.  She 
carried  a  music  roll,  and  was  evidently  bound  for 
the  city. 

It  was  the  first  Ross  had  seen  of  her  since  the 
visit  to  his  bedside.  He  had  wanted  to  call  upon 


In  Harness  Once  More  159 

her,  but  business  and  other  things  had  caused  him 
to  put  it  off  day  after  day. 

She  caught  sight  of  him  surrounded  by  the 
awkward  and  chattering  laborers,  all  of  whom 
wanted  to  know  where  to  go  next,  and  her  face 
took  on  something  of  a  look  of  dismay.  He,  too, 
was  taken  aback,  and  wished  just  then  that  the 
laborers  were  anywhere  but  there. 

But  she  did  not  hesitate  more  than  an  instant. 
Then  she  nodded  pleasantly,  and  held  out  her  hand 
to  him  from  a  distance. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  around  once  more," 
she  said,  as  he  came  up. 

"Thank  you,  Margy;  you  are  kind,"  he  stam- 
mered. "You  see"  he  added,  "I  was  coming 
around.  But  I  had  so  much  to  attend  to  I  scarcely 
knew  what  to  do  first.  I  wanted  to  congratulate 
you  on  your  success  as  a  singer " 

She  looked  just  a  trifle  annoyed.  "Oh,  don't  let 
us  speak  of  that,  Ross.  How  is  your  work  getting 
on?" 

"Rather  slowly,  although  it  will  be  better  now  I 
have  got  these  fellows."  He  waved  his  hand  at 
the  men,  who  had  stepped  back  and  were  staring 
awkwardly  at  him.  "You  can't  imagine  what  a  job 
I  had  drumming  them  up." 

"They  are  an  awfully  rough-looking  set." 


160      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"They  all  look  rough,  but  after  you  get  to  know 
them  you'll  find  that  they  have  hearts  as  well  as  any 
of  us.  Of  course,  some  are  bad,  but  they  are  in  the 
minority." 

"Do  you  think  you  are  going  to  get  through  with 
your  contract  on  time?"  she  asked,  kindly.  "I  heard 
a  report " 

"Oh,  they  are  saying  all  sorts  of  things,  I  know. 
I  shall  do  my  best  to  get  through,  not  only  for  the 
honor  of  winning  out,  but  in  order  to  save  my 
twenty-thousand-dollar  bond.  We " 

At  this  point  Ross  stopped  short.  The  other 
train  had  rolled  in,  and  at  the  same  time  Doctor 
Parmalee  stepped  from  the  ticket  window  and 
came  out  on  the  platform. 

"Here  is  our  train,  Margy,"  he  said,  pretending 
not  to  see  Ross.  "It's  rather  crowded,  so  we'll  have 
to  hurry  if  we  want  seats  together.'1  And  then  he 
took  her  arm  and  hurried  her  toward  the  car  steps. 

Margaret  flushed,  and  so  did  Ross.  He  raised 
his  hat  gravely  and  bowed,  and  she  bowed  in  re- 
turn. Then  she  disappeared  into  the  car,  and  he 
returned  to  his  gang  of  laborers. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

WHAT  THE  DOCTOR  SAID 

MARGARET  was  to  sing  at  a  private  musicale  that 
day,  given  by  a  friend  of  hers,  living  some  miles 
away.  In  a  manner  known  only  to  himself,  Doctor 
Parmalee  had  obtained  an  invitation  to  the  affair, 
and  had  asked  for  the  privilege  of  accompanying 
the  girl. 

The  train  which  the  pair  boarded  was  far  from 
crowded,  and  the  young  physician  soon  made  Mar- 
garet comfortable  in  a  double  seat. 

"Goodwin  seems  to  enjoy  the  contracting  busi- 
ness," he  remarked,  as  he  settled  himself  beside 
her.  "Rather  queer,  isn't  it?" 

"Well,  he  has  a  right  to  do  so,"  she  answered  a 
trifle  defiantly. 

"Oh,  sure.  He's  got  a  right  to  do  anything  that 
is  honest,"  answered  the  young  doctor.  But  there 
was  something  of  a  sneer  on  his  lips  as  he  spoke. 
"I  had  an  idea  that  he  would  become  a  lawyer  or 
a  professor,  or  something  like  that,"  he  pursued. 

"Yet  it's  a  grand  thing  to  put  through  a  piece  of 
work  like  this  new  railroad,  or  like  that  outlet 
sewer." 

161 


162      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"I  agree  that  it  is.  Just  the  same,  I'd  rather  work 
at  something  that  was  a  trifle  more — er — elevating, 
so  to  speak." 

"On  a  skyscraper,  for  instance?"  she  questioned 
slyly. 

"Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean,  Margy.  A  fellow 
like  Ross  Goodwin,  with  a  college  education  behind 
him  and  all  that  money  his  uncle  left  him,  might 
do  quite  something  in  this  world  instead  of  spend- 
ing his  time  among  those  laboring  men  and  in  riding 
all  around  the  country  with  a  couple  of  trained 
nurses." 

Margaret  had  been  looking  out  of  the  window, 
but  at  this  last  remark  she  turned  quickly  to  face 
the  young  physician. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Paul?"  she  demanded. 

"What  do  I  mean?    I  don't  understand." 

"Yes,  you  do.  I  mean  about  what  you  said  of 
Mr.  Goodwin  riding  around  the  country  with  a 
couple  of  trained  nurses." 

"Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  say  anything  about  that," 
the  young  physician  answered  quickly.  "It  might 
not  be  altogether  fair  to  Miss  Martinson  and  Miss 
Bywith." 

"Has  he  been  taking  them  out  riding?" 

"Oh,  yes.  I've  met  them  on  the  road  a  number 
of  times." 


What  the  Doctor  Said  163 

"Well,  that  isn't  to  be  wondered  at  so  far  as 
Jennie  Martinson  is  concerned.  She  and  Mr. 
Goodwin  are  old  schoolmates." 

"I  see.  But  the  Bywith  girl  is  something  of  a 
newcomer  in  this  neighborhood." 

"They  are  both  very  good  nurses,  are  they  not?" 

"They  would  be  if  they  would  attend  to  business. 
The  trouble  is  that  the  Martinson  girl  is  too  giddy, 
and  likes  to  take  things  easy;  and  I  rather  imagine 
the  Bywith  girl  isn't  much  better,  although  I  don't 
know  much  about  her." 

"Have  they  ever  worked  under  you?" 

"Yes;  but  only  on  some  cases  that  didn't  amount 
to  much.  When  I  have  any  very  serious  cases,  I 
want  nurses  of  ample  experience." 

"Jennie  Martinson  seemed  to  do  all  right  when 
she  nursed  Mr.  Goodwin." 

"From  what  I  have  been  able  to  learn,  Goodwin 
wasn't  hurt  near  as  much  as  some  people  pretended. 
I  hate  to  say  anything  against  my  colleagues,  but 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  in  this  instance  Doctor 
Shepard  made  as  much  of  an  affair  of  it  as  he 
could." 

"Why,  Paul!" 

"Oh,  I  know  the  old  doc!"  laughed  the  young 
physician  harshly.  "Whenever  there  is  a  chance  to 
make  money,  he  is  Johnny-on-the-spot  every  time." 


164       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Oh,  I  can't  think  so  badly  of  Doctor  Shepard; 
I  always  thought  he  was  a  lovely  old  man!"  cried 
Margaret. 

"Then  you  don't  believe  in  giving  us  young  doc- 
tors a  chance?''  was  the  somewhat  ruffled  return. 

"Yes,  I  do,  Paul.  But  you  mustn't  try  to  climb 
up  by  pulling  somebody  else  down." 

"I'll  let  it  be  as  you  say,  Margy.  And  it  won't 
be  necessary  for  me  to  pull  the  old  doctor  down  in 
order  to  succeed.  As  it  is,  I've  got  about  all  the 
business  now  that  I  wish  to  take  care  of.  I'm  so 
busy  at  times  that  I  can  hardly  get  any  time  to  spend 
with  you,"  and  he  looked  admiringly  at  his  com- 
panion. 

"If  the  doctors  are  busy,  those  trained  nurses 
must  be  busy  too,"  went  on  Margaret,  after  a  slight 
pause. 

She  could  not  get  out  of  her  mind  what  Parmalee 
had  said  concerning  Jennie  Martinson  and  Ethel 
Bywith  riding  with  Ross. 

"Oh,  they  get  quite  a  few  jobs.  Of  course,  in  a 
great  many  cases  folks  do  their  own  nursing,  or 
have  some  friend  come  in  to  do  it  for  them.  You 
went  to  school  with  Jennie  Martinson,  didn't  you?" 

"I  did  when  we  were  in  grammar  school.  After 
that  she  went  to  one  place  and  I  went  to  another." 

"Have  you  ever  met  the  Bywith  girl?" 


What  the  Doctor  Said  165 

"Yes,  twice.  But  I  must  say  I  don't  know  her 
very  well." 

"She's  a  peculiar  sort." 

"How — peculiar  ?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  explain  exactly.  She's  one  of  the 
kind  who  is  extremely  friendly  on  short  acquaint- 
ance, a  girl  who  evidently  is  looking  out  for  every 
advantage.  When  I  saw  her  out  with  Goodwin  in 
his  auto,  she  was  acting  as  if  they  had  been  good 
friends  for  years." 

"Where  were  they?" 

"Along  that  road  leading  to  Clankerton.  They 
had  stopped  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  to  look  at  the 
scenery,  I  suppose,  and  they  hardly  gave  me  room 
to  pass  them.  Then  when  I  yelled  to  Goodwin  to 
draw  off  to  one  side,  he  was  so  interested  in  what 
he  was  saying  to  the  girl  and  what  she  was  saying 
to  him  that  he  paid  no  attention  to  me  until  I  had 
yelled  several  times.  That  is  one  of  the  reasons 
why  I  don't  treat  him  as  cordially  as  I  might.  It's 
all  well  enough  for  him  to  become  interested  in  one 
of  those  trained  nurses,  but,  at  the  same  time,  that 
doesn't  give  him  the  privilege  of  blocking  the  road 
when  a  fellow  wants  to  go  by." 

After  that  came  a  brief  period  of  silence,  and 
then  the  subject  was  changed  and  the  two  spoke  of 
the  coming  musicale,  and  Margaret  wondered 


166       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

whether  she  would  be  able  to  sing  as  good  as  usual. 

"My  throat  is  a  little  sore,"  she  said. 

"In  that  case,  you  ought  to  let  me  prescribe  for 
it,"  the  young  doctor  answered  quickly. 

"Oh,  it  may  be  all  right  by  the  time  I  want  to 
sing." 

Then  followed  another  spell  of  silence,  the  doctor, 
for  some  reason,  finding  it  rather  difficult  to  keep 
up  the  conversation,  he  not  being  a  particularly 
good  talker.  On  her  part,  Margaret  was  busy  with 
her  thoughts.  She  wondered  whether  it  was  true 
that  Ross  was  spending  a  good  portion  of  his  time 
riding  around  the  country  with  the  two  trained 
nurses,  as  Parmalee  had  said. 

"Of  course,  I  can't  blame  him  for  wanting  some 
recreation,"  she  told  herself.  "And  he  has  as 
much  right  to  go  out  with  them  as  with  anyone. 
Jennie  Martinson  always  was  a  nice  girl,  and  I 
don't  believe  she  would  make  a  chum  of  that  other 
nurse  unless  Miss  Bywith  was  all  right  too.  Oh, 
dear,  I  don't  see  why  he  had  to  take  up  with  that 
old  contracting  business  and  spoil  everything!  I 
really  don't!" 

The  musicale  proved  to  be  quite  a  society  event, 
several  hundred  being  present.  It  was  held  at  a 
large  country  home  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
the  station,  and  Margaret  and  Doctor  Parmalee 


What  the  Doctor  Said  167 

were  driven  to  the  place  in  one  of  the  automobiles 
attached  to  the  establishment. 

"So  glad  to  have  you  sing  for  us,  Miss  Poole!" 
exclaimed  the  hostess,  as  she  came  up  to  shake 
hands.  "It  was  lovely  of  you  to  promise  to  do  it." 

"I'm  always  ready  to  do  what  I  can  for  charity," 
answered  the  girl,  with  a  smile. 

"But  some  day  we  hope,  Mrs.  Barker,  to  see  her 
on  the  professional  stage,"  broke  in  Doctor  Parma- 
lee.  "I  am  sure  she  would  make  just  as  much  of 
a  hit  at  Carnegie  Hall,  or  even  the  Metropolitan 
Opera  House,  as  she  has  made  here." 

"I  agree  with  you,  Doctor,"  answered  Mrs. 
Barker. 

"Oh,  come  now — don't  flatter  me  so,"  returned 
Margaret,  her  face  flushing.  "Perhaps  my  singing 
to-day  will  disappoint  you — my  throat  is  not  at  its 
best." 

"Oh,  that's  the  universal  excuse  of  all  singers," 
came  quickly  from  the  hostess.  "I  am  sure  you'll 
please  everybody  present." 

As  usual  on  such  occasions,  the  audience  was 
somewhat  slow  in  assembling,  but  presently  the 
spacious  rooms  of  the  country  mansion  were  well 
filled  with  those  who  had  come  to  enjoy  the  musi- 
cale.  Margaret  met  many  whom  she  knew,  and 
received  words  of  praise  from  those  who  had  heard 


168       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

her  sing  before.  She  heard  various  bits  of  conver- 
sation, and  once  heard  Ross'  name  mentioned. 

"No,  I  don't  think  Mr.  Goodwin  is  coming,"  she 
heard  one  lady  tell  another.  "He  told  my  husband 
that  he  was  too  busy  with  his  railroad  contract  to 
go  anywhere." 

"Isn't  it  strange  that  he  should  take  up  that  line 
of  work?"  returned  the  other  lady.  "My  husband 
never  dreamed  that  he  would  do  it." 

"My  husband  thought  the  same.  And  he  thinks 
now  that  Mr.  Goodwin  will  fall  down  on  that  con- 
tract, as  he  puts  it.  What  a  shame  it  would  be  if 
he  should  fall  down,  as  the  men  say,  and  lose  all 
his  money." 

"Well,  what  else  can  you  expect,  if  a  man  goes 
into  something  of  which  he  knows  nothing?  He 
might  rather  have  sold  out  that  business  to  some- 
body who  understood  it,  and  then  placed  his  money 
in  good  securities."  And  then  the  two  ladies  turned 
away,  and  Margaret  heard  no  more. 

"Oh,  dear,  how  they  do  love  to  pick  people 
apart!"  the  girl  told  herself.  Then,  as  she  thought 
again  of  what  Doctor  Parmalee  had  said  about 
Ross  and  the  two  trained  nurses,  her  cheeks  began 
to  burn. 

"It's  about  time  for  the  concert  to  begin,  Miss 
Poole,"  said  the  husband  of  the  hostess,  coming  up 


What  the  Doctor  Said  169 

to  her  a  minute  later.  "If  you  will  kindly  come 
with  me,  I  would  like  to  introduce  you  to  some  of 
the  others  who  are  going  to  take  part" ;  and  then 
he  led  her  into  a  side  room. 

Margaret  had  two  numbers  to  sing,  and  each  of 
these  was,  of  course,  encored.  She  did  her  best,  and 
if  her  notes  were  not  as  clear  as  they  might  have 
been,  her  songs  were  well  received,  the  audience 
applauding  loudly.  But  she  was  glad  when  it  was 
all  over  and  she  was  once  more  on  her  way  home. 
She  was  unusually  silent,  as  Doctor  Parmalee  could 
not  help  but  notice. 

"I  guess  that  singing  was  too  much  for  you  to- 
day," he  remarked.  "If  your  throat  hurts  you  so 
much,  you  should  have  sent  your  regrets." 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  disappoint  Mrs.  Barker,"  an- 
swered Margaret.  "If  I  had  done  that,  she  would 
never  have  forgiven  me." 

"But  you  must  take  care  of  that  throat  of  yours, 
Margy.  Why,  do  you  know,  I  think  you've  got  a 
fortune  in  that  voice  of  yours!" 

"Oh,  you're  fooling,"  and  now  she  smiled  faintly. 

"No,  I'm  not,"  he  answered  earnestly.  "I  mean 
it.  Your  singing  is  the  sweetest  I  ever  heard  in 
my  life.  I  am  sure,  with  a  little  more  training  and 
a  little  more  experience,  you  could  make  a  big  hit  in 
grand  opera." 


170      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"A  hit  in  grand  opera  isn't  as  easy  as  you  sur- 
mise," she  answered.  Nevertheless,  her  face  showed 
that  she  appreciated  the  compliment. 

"Oh,  you'll  be  at  the  top  of  the  ladder  some  day," 
went  on  the  doctor.  "And  then  all  of  us  poor  fel- 
lows will  be  on  our  knees,  stretching  out  our  hands 
to  you !" 

"Nonsense!" 

"Well,  anyway,  there'll  be  one  fellow  on  his 
knees !" 

"Now,  Paul,  don't  be  silly,"  she  answered;  yet 
her  manner  showed  that  she  was  not  altogether 
displeased. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A   FIRST   VICTORY 

Two  weeks  slipped  by,  and  work  on  the  railroad 
contract  was  now  hurrying  forward  as  never  before. 
The  gangs  along  the  line  were  three  in  number — 
one  under  the  direction  of  Cole,  the  second  under 
Gorgi,  and  the  third  under  a  Pole  known  as  Lamp- 
post, because  his  real  name  was  unpronounceable 
and  because  he  was  very  tall  and  thin.  The  latter 
could  speak  fairly  good  English,  and  Ross  soon  dis- 
covered that  he  could  control  the  Poles  and  Hun- 
garians better  than  Gorgi  could  the  Italians.  More 
than  this,  Lamp-post  knew  all  about  steam  shovels, 
and  this  was  essential,  for  he  and  his  men  were 
placed  where  the  shovel  was  to  be  used. 

The  shovel,  and  the  donkey  engine  to  run  it, 
came  at  last,  and  in  less  than  three  days  the  men 
had  everything  rigged  up  and  in  working  order. 
Ross  had  already  hired  an  engineer,  who  was  his 
own  fireman,  and  a  fellow  to  see  that  the  supply  of 
coal  did  not  run  short ;  and  on  the  following  Monday 
the  steam  shovel  went  into  operation,  with  a  speed 
that  kept  the  trainmen  busy  hauling  out  full  cars 
of  dirt  and  backing  in  empties. 

171 


172      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"That's  what  I  call  something  like!"  cried  Cole, 
enthusiastically.  It's  a  pity  there  isn't  another  cut 
where  we  could  use  another  shovel." 

"Wait  till  that  rock  drill  comes  along,"  answered 
Ross.  "Then  we'll  blow  that  cliff  to  pieces  in  jig 
time." 

"What's  delaying  it?" 

"I  really  can't  say.  I'll  write  to-night  and  find 
out." 

On  the  following  morning  Ross  heard  a  bit  of 
news  that  surprised  him.  O'Mara  had  returned  to 
Cressing  and  was  openly  demanding  to  know  who 
had  dared  to  accuse  him  of  attacking  the  young 
contractor. 

"He  says  he'll  lick  any  man  who  says  such  a 
thing,"  said  the  person  who  told  Ross.  "He  says 
he  and  you  are  not  friends,  but  that  he  never  raised 
a  hand  to  harm  you,  and  you  know  it." 

"We'll  see  about  that  later,"  answered  Ross,  and 
would  say  nothing  more  to  the  outsider.  But  he 
talked  the  affair  over  with  Cole,  and  that  night  sent 
a  letter  to  Mr.  Carton,  asking  the  Philadelphia  law- 
yer to  send  a  first-class  private  detective  to  Durham 
without  delay. 

To  his  letter  about  the  drill  Ross  received  no 
reply,  and,  after  two  days  had  passed,  he  took  a 
train  down  to  Pittsburg  to  see  what  was  wrong. 


A  First  Victory  173 

"Can't  make  out  your  telegrams,  or  letters, 
either,"  said  the  manufacturer.  "First  you  order 
a  thing,  and  then  you  countermand  the  order,  and 
then  you  order  again.  What  sort  of  business  is 
that?" 

"I  haven't  countermanded  any  order." 

"You  haven't?  Jake,  where  is  that  telegram  we 
got  last  week?" 

The  bookkeeper  searched  a  file  and  brought  forth 
a  yellow  slip.  True  enough,  it  was  a  telegram, 
signed  Russ  Goudmin,  telling  them  to  hold  back 
the  rock  drill  until  further  orders. 

"That's  not  my  name,  and  I  never  sent  the  tele- 
gram," said  Ross.  "But  it  was  evidently  sent  in 
order  to  deceive  you,  and  Russ  Goudmin  is  pretty 
close  to  Ross  Goodwin  when  you  see  it  in  writing. 
It's  another  trick  of  my  enemies  to  delay  my  work." 

"What's  the  matter?  Are  you  up  against  some 
rival  contractors?" 

"That's  the  size  of  it." 

"Then  I  pity  you.  I  was  young  when  I  went 
into  business  as  a  manufacturer,  and  the  rivalries 
I  had  to  down  would  fill  a  book  as  big  as  an  un- 
abridged dictionary.  You'll  catch  it  right  and  left 
until  you  have  your  eyeteeth  cut." 

"I  guess  I've  got  some  of  my  eyeteeth  cut  al- 
ready." 


174      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Not  the  half  of  'em,  young  man;  take  my  word 
on  it.  After  this,  when  you  give  an  order,  make  a 
deposit,  and  have  it  in  writing  that  goods  must  be 
delivered,  no  matter  what  other  orders  come  along. 
Then,  if  you  want  to  change,  go  in  person." 

"Thanks  for  the  advice ;  I'll  remember  it.  Now, 
what  will  you  do  about  this  drill?" 

"Ship  it  to  you  as  soon  as  I  can  get  the  railroad 
to  back  a  car  into  the  yard,  and  that  will  probably 
be  by  eleven  o'clock  to-morrow  morning.  I'm  sorry 
to  see  you've  had  this  delay,  for  I  want  to  see  the 
nephew  of  John  Goodwin  get  along.  If  you  ever 
find  out  who  sent  that  fake  telegram,  let  me  know, 
and  I'll  help  you  prosecute  him." 

"You  will?" 

"Yes,  sir!" 

"All  right;  I'll  remember  that,"  answered  Ross. 

The  smallpox  scare  was  not  yet  entirely  over, 
and  fresh  troubles  arose  on  the  day  after  Ross' 
return  from  Pittsburg.  The  local  board  of  health 
had  received  a  communication  from  a  well-known 
citizen  named  McNamara,  urging  that  all  the  rail- 
road and  stone  quarry  laborers  be  vaccinated.  Ross 
knew  that  McNamara  and  Breen  were  close  friends, 
and  felt  certain  that  the  letter  had  been  written  at 
Breen's  instigation. 

The  communication  was  passed  on  by  the  board, 


A  First  Victory  175 

and,  after  a  debate  lasting  over  an  hour,  it  was  de- 
cided to  follow  out  the  suggestion.  Of  course, 
Ross  could  not  object  to  such  a  health  measure, 
which  was  really  excellent,  according  to  Doctor 
Shepard,  who  was  backed  up  by  Doctor  Parmalee; 
but  he  knew  it  would  create  trouble  among  the 
men,  who  did  not  understand  what  vaccination 
meant. 

There  was  more  to  this  health  board  move  than 
appeared  on  the  surface.  In  Durham  there  was  a 
Doctor  Walwick,  a  very  intimate  friend  to  Ike 
Shacker.  Walwick  was  a  good  deal  of  a  quack, 
who,  in  former  years,  had  made  a  little  money  in 
a  so-called  consumption  cure — money  which  he  had 
dissipated  in  more  or  less  riotous  drinking,  and  in 
gambling. 

"Here's  a  chance  for  you,  Walwick;"  Ike  Shacker 
said,  when  he  met  this  doctor. 

"A  chance  for  what?"  demanded  Walwick.  He 
was  a  burly  fellow,  with  a  red  face  and  red  hair 
and  beard. 

"A  chance  to  make  good  money,"  went  on 
Shacker.  "Wouldn't  you  like  to  do  a  lot  of  vaccin- 
ating at  so  much  per  man  ?" 

"Sure!  I'll  do  anything  if  there's  money  in  it," 
answered  the  doctor.  "But  who's  going  to  be  vac- 
cinated?" 


176      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"All  the  laborers  who  are  working  for  Ross 
Goodwin,  and  also  the  men  at  Tooker's  quarry," 
and  Shacker  closed  one  eye  suggestively. 

"I  heard  something  about  what  the  health  board 
did.  So  they  are  going  to  compel  'em  to  have  those 
men  scratched,  eh?" 

"That's  it.  And  if  you  say  the  word,  I'll  see  to 
it  that  you  get  the  job — and  at  a  good  fat 
price." 

"Go  to  it,  Shacker.  And  if  you  can  land  it  at  a 
fair  price,  you  get  your  rake-off,"  announced  Wai- 
wick,  who  was  not  one  to  mince  his  words. 

"I  think  we  had  better  keep  this  to  ourselves  for 
the  present,"  cautioned  Shacker.  "We'll  spring  it 
on  Goodwin  and  the  other  fellows  when  the  health 
board  meets." 

Walwick  agreed  to  this,  but  less  than  twenty- 
four  hours  later  found  him  in  the  back  room  of  a 
saloon  which  he  often  visited,  and  there,  while  some- 
what under  the  influence  of  liquor,  he  began  to  brag 
about  the  work  which  was  to  be  entrusted  to  his 
care.  Through  a  barkeeper,  this  word  got  around 
to  Jimmy  McGuire,  who  instantly  mentioned  the 
fact  to  Ross. 

"So  that's  what's  in  the  wind,  eh?"  cried  the 
young  contractor,  and  his  face  showed  his  indigna- 
tion. "They're  not  only  going  to  try  to  put  me  in 


A  First  Victory  177 

a  hole,  but  also  try  to  make  money  at  it.  Well,  I'll 
have  to  see  what  can  be  done  about  this." 

Ross  lost  no  time  in  calling  upon  Doctor  Shepard 
and  explaining  the  situation. 

"I  think  if  anybody  is  to  do  this  work,  I'd  like 
to  have  you  take  hold,  Doctor,"  he  said. 

"Thank  you,  my  boy,  but  I've  got  too  much 
work  to  do  in  my  regular  practice,"  announced  the 
family  physician.  "Just  the  same,  I'd  not  trust 
that  work  to  such  a  fellow  as  Walwick.  That  fel- 
low is  nothing  but  a  quack,  and  ought  to  be  run  out 
of  town." 

The  young  contractor  was  keenly  disappointed 
to  think  that  his  old  family  physician  would  not 
undertake  the  work,  yet  he  could  not  blame  Doctor 
Shepard.  He  walked  home  in  rather  a  thoughtful 
mood.  Half  way  to  the  house,  however,  his  face 
broke  out  into  a  broad  grin. 

"By  the  bones  of  Virgil,  I've  a  good  mind  to  do 
it!"  he  cried  to  himself.  "Yes,  sir,  I  will!" 

That  night  Ross  went  around  to  interview  one  of 
the  members  of  the  board  of  health,  and  this  man 
and  himself  shortly  afterward  visited  a  second 
member. 

When  the  meeting  of  the  health  board  was  held, 
the  room  was  crowded  with  citizens,  for  word  had 
gone  forth  that  something  unusual  was  going  to 


178       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

take  place.  After  the  transaction  of  the  regular 
business,  the  question  of  vaccinating  the  laborers 
was  taken  up,  and  the  name  of  Doctor  Walwick 
was  mentioned  by  one  of  the  members  for  the  work. 
Immediately  after  this  one  of  the  other  members 
got  up,  and  in  a  short  but  pointed  address  put  the 
name  of  Doctor  Paul  Parmalee  in  nomination. 

"We  don't  want  Doctor  Parmalee,"  said  the 
member  who  had  named  the  other  physician.  "He's 
just  a  beginner,  and  he  might  not  be  able  to  do  the 
•work  as  well  as  an  older  man  who  was  more  ex- 
perienced." 

"I  think  he  can  be  trusted  to  do  it  as  well,  if  not 
better,  than  your  candidate,"  retorted  the  other 
member ;  and  then  followed  a  spirited  debate,  which 
lasted  several  minutes.  At  the  end  of  this  time  a 
vote  was  taken  and  Parmalee  received  two  votes 
out  of  three  and  was  declared  the  board's  physician 
pro  tern. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Doctor  Parmalee  did 
not  relish  the  honor -which  was  thus  thrust  upon 
him.  The  news  was  brought  to  him  in  a  letter 
from  the  clerk  of  the  health  board,  which  he  read 
with  much  astonishment. 

"Want  me  to  vaccinate  all  those  Poles  and  Da- 
goes and  Swedes  and  Hungarians,  and  I  don't  know 
what!"  he  grumbled,  after  perusing  the  epistle  a 


A  First  Victory  179 

second  time.  "That's  the  rottenest  job  a  man  ever 
tackled.  This  is  some  of  Ross  Goodwin's  work, 
and  I'll  get  even  with  him  some  time  for  doing  it, 
sure!" 

He  was  exceedingly  angry,  but  presently  he 
calmed  down  a  little  and  began  to  reflect.  It  was 
all  well  enough  to  ride  a  high  horse  and  say  he 
would  not  undertake  the  work,  but  when  he  con- 
sidered that  it  would  pay  fairly  well,  and  that  there 
would  be  quite  a  large  number  of  men  to  be  vac- 
cinated, he  hesitated.  Since  becoming  a  physician, 
he  had  lived  at  such  a  high  rate  that  his  father, 
though  wealthy,  had  cut  down  his  allowance.  He 
was  now  deeply  in  debt,  and  some  of  his  creditors 
threatened  to  go  to  his  parent  with  their  tales  of 
woe. 

"I've  got  to  pay  that  garage  man,  and  my  tailor, 
and  half  a  dozen  others,"  he  told  himself,  with  a 
sour  look  on  his  face.  "And  I've  got  to  settle  that 
hundred  and  fifty  I  borrowed  from  Abrahams.  The 
old  man  won't  settle  any  of  those  debts  for  me, 
and  if  I  go  to  him,  it  will  only  bring  on  another 
family  row,  and  for  all  I  know  he  may  cut  me  off 
entirely." 

He  went  to  bed  that  night  in  a  rebellious  state  of 
mind.  In  the  morning,  however,  his  opinion  of  the 
matter  changed.  He  learned  that  not  only  were 


180       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

Ross'  laborers  and  also  the  laborers  working  for  the 
railroad  company  to  be  vaccinated,  but  likewise  all 
the  men  engaged  at  the  local  quarry.  The  morn- 
ing mail  brought  him  half  a  dozen  bills,  and  this 
was  followed  an  hour  later  by  a  call  from  Mr. 
Abrahams. 

"It  ish  nod  dat  I  wish  to  disturb  you,  Doctor 
Farm' lee,"  said  the  money-lender,  rubbing  his 
hands  together  industriously,  "bud  I  wass  a  poor 
mans,  and  I  must  needs  my  moneys." 

"Don't  worry,  Abrahams,  you'll  get  your 
money,"  growled  the  doctor.  "I've  got  a  big  job 
on  hand  now,  and  as  soon  as  I  get  paid  for  it,  you'll 
get  all  that's  coming  to  you." 

"Yes,  I  wass  hearin'  dat  you  vaccinate  dos  rail- 
road workmans — yes?" 

"That's  it.  And  as  soon  as  my  money  comes  in, 
you'll  get  yours,"  answered  Parmalee;  and  then 
dismissed  the  money-lender. 

Parmalee  wondered  what  his  friends  in  high  so- 
ciety would  say  to  this  new  turn  of  affairs,  and 
especially  did  he  wonder  how  it  would  strike  Mar- 
garet. 

"I  think  I'll  have  to  go  and  explain  matters  to 
her,"  he  told  himself.  "And  I'll  have  to  explain  it 
to  the  De  Havens  and  Van  Worts,  and  some  of  the 
others."  « 


A  First  Victory  181 

He  met  Margaret  the  day  after  receiving  his  ap- 
pointment. She  had  already  heard  of  it  through 
the  local  newspaper. 

"It's  a  beastly  job,  don't  you  know,"  he  told  the 
girl.  "But  I  really  can't  decline.  You  see,  the 
poor  men  need  vaccinating,  and  nobody  in  town 
seems  to  want  to  do  it  except  a  quack  doctor,  who 
can  not  be  trusted.  I've  really  got  to  sacrifice  my- 
self." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  the  work  will  be  somewhat  un- 
pleasant," said  the  girl. 

"It  will  be  beastly,  Margy,  beastly!  It's  bad 
enough  to  do  the  vaccinating  on  a  lot  of  fellows 
who  don't  know  enough  to  take  a  bath  or  wear 
clean  clothing!  But  to  think  that  a  doctor  has  to 
go  into  the  houses  where  those  fellows  live — the 
houses  owned  by  Ross  Goodwin.  Why,  do  you 
know,  those  places  are  regular  eye-sores!  The 
authorities  ought  to  make  him  tear  them  down." 

"Can  that  be  true,  Paul?  I  thought  that  those 
places  were  model  tenements." 

"Model  tenements  nothing!  They  are  regular 
shacks.  They  are  full  of  vermin ;  and  I  say  they 
ought  to  come  down." 

Though  the  doctor  still  kept  on  grumbling  to 
himself,  he  did  not  delay  the  work  at  hand,  being 
anxious  to  receive  the  pay  for  the  same,  and  as 


182       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

soon  as  he  could  gain  the  necessary  vaccine  points, 
he  visited  the  tenements. 

As  Ross  and  Cole  had  expected,  there  was  trouble 
at  once,  and  plenty  of  it.  Although  he  had  ex- 
plained to  Gorgi  and  Lamp-post  what  was  to  be 
done  and  asked  them  to  explain  ,to  the  laborers 
under  them,  some  of  the  workmen  were  doubtful 
and  refused  to  be  treated. 

"You-a  no  come-a  in  here!"  cried  one  of  the  la- 
borers, as  he  tried  to  shut  the  door  in  the  doctor's 
face.  "You-a  stay  out!" 

"I've  got  to  come  in  to  vaccinate  you  and  the 
other  men  in  there,"  declared  Doctor  Parmalee,  and 
shoved  open  the  door. 

At  once  there  was  a  commotion,  and  suddenly  the 
young  physician  found  himself  confronted  by  a 
burly  foreigner  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand. 

"You-a  no  cut-a  my  arm!"  yelled  the  workman, 
flourishing  the  weapon  under  the  doctor's  nose. 
"You-a  clear-a  out,  or  you-a  get-a  shot!"  and 
thereupon  the  doctor  lost  no  time  in  departing. 

It  may  be  added  here  that  by  morning  sixteen 
men  had  packed  up  their  belongings  and  departed 
for  parts  unknown. 

Filled  with  humiliation  over  the  revolver  episode, 
although  it  was  afterward  learned  that  the  weapon 
had  not  been  loaded,  the  doctor  reported  that  two 


A  First  Victory  183 

out  of  the  four  houses  were  unfit  for  human  habita- 
tions, and  recommended  that  they  be  burned  down. 

"This  is  an  outrage,"  said  Ross,  as  soon  as  he 
heard  of  it.  "The  houses  are  good  enough  for  any- 
body to  live  in.  The  drainage  is  perfect,  and  I 
had  them  whitewashed  from  cellar  to  garret  only 
a  month  ago.  Of  course,  they  are  not  as  good  as 
the  house  the  doctor  lives  in,  but  they  are  better 
than  ninety  per  cent,  of  the  houses  used  by  most 
foreign  laborers." 

The  doctor's  report  was  eagerly  taken  up  by 
Breen,  Shacker  and  McNamara,  and  the  health 
commissioner  who  had  voted  for  Dr.  Walwick,  and 
there  was  the  promise  of  a  lively  meeting  of  the 
board  three  nights  later. 

"Will  you  go?"  questioned  Cole  of  the  young 
contractor. 

"I  certainly  shall,"  answered  Ross.  "And  I'll 
give  those  fellows  to  understand  that  they  have 
gone  too  far." 

"They  tell  me  that  Chester  will  vote  to  burn  the 
houses  down.  If  he  goes  over  to  Slater,  that  will 
make  two  to  one  against  you." 

"Leave  the  matter  to  me,  Cole.  Only  be  on  hand, 
that's  all." 

It  soon  became  the  talk  of  Durham  that  young 
Goodwin  was  going  to  make  a  hot  fight  to  preserve 


184       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

his  property.  As  a  consequence,  the  night  of  the 
health  board  meeting  the  hall  was  crowded  to  suf- 
focation. Many  of  the  best  of  the  townspeople 
were  there,  and  in  the  assemblage  were  Breen, 
Shacker  and  half  a  dozen  railroad  officials  and  out- 
side contractors. 

Some  routine  business  was  quickly  disposed  of, 
and  then  the  communication  from  Doctor  Parmalee 
was  read.  The  physician  was  present,  and  he  was 
requested  to  give  some  further  particulars,  which 
he  did  in  a  loud  tone,  as  if  defying  anybody  to 
contradict  him. 

As  soon  as  he  had  finished,  and  before  the  board 
could  call  for  a  vote,  Ross  made  his  way  to  the  front 
and  asked  to  be  heard.  The  request  was  granted, 
and,  in  a  low  but  clear  voice,  he  said  that  he  would 
have  to  contradict  Doctor  Parmalee,  even  though 
he  had  every  respect  for  him  as  a  private  citizen. 
He  had  taken  an  interest  in  the  homes  his  work- 
men occupied,  and  early  in  the  season  had  spent 
considerable  money  in  having  those  homes  put  in 
proper  condition. 

"This  whole  attack  upon  me  and  my  workmen  is 
the  invention  of  my  enemies,"  he  declared,  boldly. 
"Certain  persons  in  this  community  thought  that 
when  my  late  uncle,  John  Goodwin,  whom  you  all 
knew,  died,  that  his  business  was  a  thing  of  the 


A  First  Victory  185 

past,  and  that  they  would  have  the  contracting  field 
to  themselves.  When  I  came  in  and  took  the  rail- 
road contract  from  under  their  noses,  they  were  as 
enraged  as  hornets.  Since  that  time  they  have 
tried  everything  in  their  power  to  stop  me  from 
putting  that  contract  through  on  time.  My  men 
have  been  persuaded  to  leave  my  employ,  my  tools 
have  been  stolen,  new  machinery  which  I  had  or- 
dered has  been  delayed  on  account  of  a  fake  tele- 
gram, and  then  came  the  report  that  there  was  small- 
pox at  my  houses ;  while  the  only  man  who  was  sick 
— and  he  had  chicken-pox — was  sent  to  my  place 
from  the  house  of  a  rival  contractor.  Now  Doctor 
Parmalee  comes  along  and  says  the  houses  ought 
to  be  burned  down — which  means  more  trouble  for 
me.  I  knew  that  this  report  was  to  be  handed  in, 
and  I  beg  to  hand  in  another  report,  signed  by  Doc- 
tor Shepard,  of  this  city,  well  known  as  one  of  our 
best  citizens,  and  Dr.  Fairfield,  of  the  State  board  of 
health.  These  gentlemen  visited  the  houses  in 
question  yesterday,  and  made  an  inspection  lasting 
three  hours,  and  in  their  report  they  state  that  the 
houses  are  fit  for  anybody  to  live  in.  Now,  gentle- 
men, I  leave  it  to  you  whether  you  are  going  to  act 
on  the  advice  of  Doctor  Parmalee,  who  is  a  new- 
comer in  our  midst,  or  on  the  advice  of  such  an 
honored  citizen  as  Doctor  Shepard  and  such  a  well- 


186      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

known  medical  expert  as  Doctor  Fairfield,  of  the 
State  board.  Your  duty " 

"Hurrah  for  Goodwin!"  shouted  a  man  in  the 
rear  of  the  hall  at  this  point. 

A  wild  clapping  of  hands  followed,  and  it  was  in 
vain  that  the  chairman  of  the  health  board  pounded 
with  his  gavel  for  silence.  Then  somebody  pro- 
posed three  hisses  for  Parmalee,  and  they  were  also 
given,  good  and  strong.  It  was  too  much  for  the 
fastidious  physician,  and,  jamming  his  silk  tile  on 
his  head,  and  muttering  imprecations  under  his 
breath,  he  fled  from  the  hall. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

LOOKING  UP  A  LOST  DRILL 

"I'LL  tell  you,  you  knocked  'em  out  in  one,  two, 
three  order  last  night,"  said  Cole,  the  next  morning. 
"The  whole  crowd  was  mad  enough  to  chew  ten- 
penny  nails." 

"They  deserved  to  be  knocked  out,"  answered 
Ross,  with  an  earnest  smile  on  his  face.  "So  far, 
I  have  taken  all  they  put  on  me  and  said  nothing. 
Now  I  am  going  to  fight  them,  step  by  step,  and 
inch  by  inch." 

"It  didn't  take  long  for  the  board  to  vote  down 
Doctor  Parmalee's  recommendation.  But  that 
don't  bring  back  the  men  that  left  on  account  of  the 
arm-scratching,"  went  on  the  foreman,  seriously. 

"That  is  true,  Larry;  but  I'm  going  to  do  some- 
thing that  will  bring  them  back,  and  bring  others 
here,  too,"  said  Ross,  more  earnestly  than  ever. 
"Send  Gorgi  to  me  at  once." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  Italian  foreman  was  with 
the  young  boss.  Ross  had  written  the  following  on 
a  sheet  of  paper: 

187 


188       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

LABORERS  WANTED— GOOD  PAY! 
Men  wanted  to  work  on  the  railroad  between 
Durham  and  Cressing.    Steady  work  and  good  pay. 
Every  man  working  a  month  will  receive  $10  extra, 
and  every  man  working  until  the  contract  is  finished 
will   receive  $20  extra.     Men  must  come  before 
Saturday,  July  24th. 
Apply  to 

Ross  GOODWIN,  Contractor,  or, 

LAWRENCE  COLE,  Foreman. 

"Now,  Grorgi,  I  want  you  to  write  this  out  in 
Italian,"  said  Ross.  "Make  it  plain,  so  that  every 
man  can  read  and  understand  it." 

Fortunately  the  Italian  had  a  fair  education,  and 
the  translation  was  soon  made.  Then  Ross  had  a 
Durham  printer  strike  off  fifty  of  the  advertise- 
ments, each  on  heavy  cardboard  a  foot  and  a  half 
square.  These  cards  he  gave  to  Gorgi  and  one  of 
the  workmen,  and  told  them  to  tack  them  up  around 
Durham,  Cressing,  Finchville,  and  at  the  places 
where  the  men  under  Breen  and  Shacker  were 
working. 

"If  that  won't  do  the  business,  I  don't  know  what 
will,"  said  Ross,  as  he  showed  Cole  one  of  the 
cards. 

"I  think  you'll  catch  some  of  the  men  with  it," 


Looking  up  a  Lost  Drill  189 

answered  the  foreman.  "Say,  when  Breen  and 
Shacker  see  these  they'll  feel  like  murdering  you  in 
cold  blood." 

"I  can't  help  how  they'll  feel.  They  started  the 
fight,  and  he  who  dances  must  pay  the  fiddler,"  re- 
turned Ross. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  forget  one  thing,  Mr.  Good- 
win. That  rock  drill  hasn't  arrived  yet." 

"I  know  it.  I  would  have  taken  that  matter  up 
three  days  ago,  but  other  troubles  drove  it  out  of 
my  mind.  I'll  look  up  the  drill  at  once." 

Ross  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  did  not  write 
or  telegraph  to  the  manufacturer,  but  went  to  the 
local  telephone  headquarters  and  reached  him  by 
long-distance  'phone. 

"Your  drill?"  said  the  manufacturer,  over  the 
wire.  "Is  this  another  fake?" 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  Ross,  hotly.  "I  want  that 
drill,  and  I  want  it  quick." 

"But  I  sent  it  to  you  just  as  I  agreed." 

"It  isn't  here." 

"Then  you'd  better  ask  the  railroad  about  it.  I 
know  it  left  Pittsburg  by  noon  freight." 

This  was  all  the  satisfaction  Ross  could  get,  out- 
side of  the  number  of  the  flat  car  upon  which  the 
drill  had  been  loaded. 

"I'll  wager  it  is  another  trick  of  the  enemy,"  he 


190       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

said  to  himself.  "But  how  could  they  get  the  drill 
from  the  railroad  company?  They  wouldn't  dare 
steal  it  outright." 

From  the  telephone  office  the  young  contractor 
made  his  way  to  the  freight  yard.  He  knew  the 
freight  agent,  Sam  Flood,  fairly  well,  and  of  a  sud- 
den remembered  that  Flood  was  distantly  related  to 
Ike  Shacker,  and  that  the  pair  were  warm  friends. 

"If  Flood  is  playing  in  with  Shacker  I'll  make 
it  hot  for  him,"  the  young  contractor  told  himself. 
"I'll  not  take  another  bit  of  dirty  work  from  any  of 
them." 

He  found  Flood  in  the  freight-house  office,  lean- 
ing back  in  an  old  easy-chair  and  puffing  away  at  a 
stogy.  The  office  was  in  considerable  disorder, 
showing  that  Flood  was  not  a  man  to  do  more  than 
was  actually  required  of  him. 

"I  want  to  find  out  what's  become  of  a  rock  drill 
that  was  sent  to  me  several  days  ago/'  began  Ross. 
"Have  you  got  it  in  the  yard  here?" 

"A  rock  drill?"  repeated  Flood,  slowly.  He  took 
a  long  puff  at  the  stogy.  "Where  did  it  come 
from?" 

"Jepson  Company,  Pittsburg." 

"Haven't  see  anything  of  it." 

"Nothing  at  all?" 


Looking  up  a  Lost  Drill  191 

"It's  mighty  queer,  Flood.  I  just  telephoned  to 
the  Jepson  Company,  and  they  said  it  was  sent  out 
on  the  noon  freight  several  days  ago." 

"Oh,  those  manufacturers  are  willing  to  tell  any- 
thing," growled  the  freight  agent.  "Only  two 
weeks  ago  George  Harris  was  looking  for  two  cases 
of  rubber  boots  that  the  manufacturer  swore  he 
had  shipped  four  days  before.  The  boots  came  in 
a  week  later,  and  the  shipping  bill  showed  the  goods 
were  sent  just  two  days  before  I  got  'em." 

"Well,  I  am  certain  this  drill  was  shipped  here." 

"All  right;  I'll  see  if  I  can  look  it  up,"  answered 
Flood,  stretching  himself.  "Call  around  again  in  a 
week  or  so." 

"A  week!"  exclaimed  Ross.  "Not  much!  That 
drill  has  got  to  be  located  in  the  next  twenty-four 
hours!" 

"How  in  thunder  am  I  to  locate  it  in  that  time, 
Goodwin?  I  don't  even  know  the  number  of  the 
car,  or  anything." 

"It  was  flat  car  No.  34,587,"  said  Ross,  putting 
down  the  figures  on  a  slip  of  paper.  "You  ought  to 
be  able  to  locate  that  car  pretty  soon,  if  it  came  out 
on  this  branch." 

"I'll  do  what  I  can.    But  I'm  very  busy  to-day." 

"Oh,  really?"  answered  Ross,  and  now  he  was 
growing  sarcastic.  "Very  well,  Flood;  I'll  go  and 


192      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

see  Mr.  Sanderson  about  it,  and  if  he  can't  help  me 
out  I'll  go  and  see  the  chief  freight  agent." 

At  this  the  freight  agent  leaped  to  his  feet,  and 
his  face  flushed  crimson. 

"Look  a-here!"  he  blustered.  "You  needn't  try 
to  make  trouble  for  me.  I'll  look  this  matter  up 
just  as  soon  as  I  can.  You  contractors  think  a 
man  can  do  everything  on  the  jump." 

"Will  you  look  up  the  car  within  the  next  twenty- 
four  hours?" 

"How  can  I  promise  to  do  that  when  I  don't 
know  anything  about  the  car?  For  all  I  know,  it 
may  have  gone  through  to  Buffalo,  or  Chicago,  or 
some  other  point." 

"You  can  find  out  if  it's  on  this  branch?" 

"I'll  do  that  as  soon  as  I  get  time.  But  let  me 
tell  you  that  it  won't  do  you  any  good  to  go  to 
headquarters  about  this  matter.  They'll  simply 
refer  the  matter  to  me." 

"I  don't  think  so — not  after  they  hear  what  I'll 
have  to  say,"  answered  Ross,  shortly;  and,  turning 
on  his  heel,  he  left  the  office. 

The  freight  agent  gazed  after  him  anxiously  until 
he  was  out  of  sight.  Then  he  began  to  puff  away 
savagely  at  his  stogy. 

"I  hope  Ike  hasn't  got  me  into  a  hole  over  this," 
he  half  muttered  to  himself.  "I'm  willing  enough 


Looking  up  a  Lost  Drill  193 

to  help  him  all  I  can,  but  I'm  not  going  to  cut  my 
own  head  off  doing  it." 

From  the  freight  station  Ross  hurried  back  to 
the  telephone  office.  Something  made  him  feel 
pretty  certain  that  the  flat  car  had  come  out  as  far 
as  Durham,  and  that  Flood  had  allowed  it  to  go  to 
some  other  freight  depot  "by  mistake."  He  accord- 
ingly called  up  the  next  station  and  asked  the 
freight  agent  there  if  he  knew  anything  of  the 
car. 

The  reply  was  in  the  negative,  and  similar  re- 
plies were  received  from  all  freight  agents  as  far  as 
Ballton  Junction.  At  the  junction  the  agent  said 
one  of  the  yardmen  remembered  the  flat  car  with 
the  drill  on  it,  and  that  it  was  marked  for  Cleveland, 
and  had  been  put  in  the  freight  train  made  up  for 
points  on  the  lake. 

Once  more  Ross  called  up  the  manufacturer  and 
explained  the  situation.  At  first  the  latter  could  not 
believe  the  report,  but  he  promised  to  look  up  the 
matter  without  delay  and  notify  Ross  of  what  was 
done.  If  the  drill  had  gone  to  Cleveland,  he  would 
have  it  back  by  the  next  day,  if  possible. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

CAUGHT  IN  THE  STORM 

Ross  was  in  a  very  thoughtful  mood  after  he  had 
called  up  the  manufacturer  of  the  rock  drill,  and  he 
hurried  down  the  street  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets  and  looking  straight  ahead. 

Thus,  before  he  realized  it,  he  had  passed  a  girl 
on  the  sidewalk.  Then,  of  a  sudden,  he  seemed  to 
realize  something,  and,  turning  quickly,  saw  that  it 
was  Margaret. 

"Oh,  hello!"  he  cried,  and  as  she  looked  over 
her  shoulder,  he  retraced  his  steps. 

"You  seem  to  be  in  an  awful  hurry  to-day, 
Ross,"  she  answered,  and  there  was  just  a  trace  of 
coldness  in  her  tone. 

"I'm  all  upset  about  a  rock  drill  that  has  gone 
astray,"  he  explained.  "I've  been  down  to  the 
freight  station  and  could  get  no  satisfaction  there, 
and  now  I've  been  calling  up  the  manufacturer  on 
the  telephone.  They  seem  to  think  the  drill  went 
to  Cleveland  by  mistake." 

"And  how  is  the  railroad  contract  getting 
along?"  she  asked,  somewhat  curiously. 

"Oh,  we're  doing  fairly  well.  We  are  a  little 
194 


Caught  in  the  Storm  195 

shy  of  help,  and  are  doing  our  best  to  get  more 
men.  By  the  way,  Margy,  I  understand  your  mu- 
sicale  at  Mrs.  Barker's  was  a  great  success.  I'm 
sorry  I  wasn't  on  hand  to  hear  you  sing." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  a  business  man  like  you  hasn't 
any  time  for  anything  but  his  business,"  she  re- 
turned. "Yet  I  think  you  might  have  attended  the 
concert — the  Home  for  Cripples  needed  the 
money." 

"Oh,  I  took  two  tickets,  even  if  I  didn't  go,"  he 
answered  quickly.  "Just  the  same,  I  am  sorry  I 
wasn't  there.  Did  your  mother  go?" 

"No.  She  didn't  feel  very  well  that  day."  Mar- 
garet looked  into  a  nearby  store  window.  "Doc- 
tor Parmalee  asked  me  for  my  company,  and  I 
went  with  him." 

"Oh,  I  see!"  Ross'  face  showed  his  displeasure. 

"You  evidently  don't  like  the  doctor." 

"Why  should  I?  After  I  helped  him  to  get  the 
job  of  vaccinating  all  the  laborers,  he  turned  on  me 
and  made  a  complaint  about  my  tenements." 

"But,  Ross,  if  those  tenements  are  not  fit  to  live 
in " 

"But  they  are  fit,  Margy.  They  are  better  than 
the  average  tenements  in  this  district.  I  wish  the 
people  who  heard  what  the  doctor  said  would  go 
down  in  that  neighborhood  and  examine  them,  and 


196       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

then  examine  some  of  the  other  places  around 
here.  His  attack  was  nothing  less  than  an  outrage, 
and  I  am  glad  the  health  board  sat  down  on  him  as 
they  did." 

"Well,  I  am  not  going  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  your  quarrel  with  Doctor  Parmalee,"  returned 
the  girl.  "Now  I  must  be  going.  Good-bye,"  and 
she  turned  and  hurried  on  her  way,  the  young  con- 
tractor gazing  after  her  longingly. 

"Hang  the  luck,  anyhow!"  he  mutterd.  "Now 
I've  got  myself  in  wrong  again.  I  suppose  Parma- 
lee  has  been  filling  her  up  with  all  sorts  of  stories 
about  me  and  what  I  am  doing." 

A  day  went  by,  and  just  two  workmen  applied 
for  jobs  in  answer  to  the  advertisement  put  out. 
Then  the  young  contractor  became  impatient. 

"I'm  going  to  take  a  look  around  and  see  what  is 
doing,"  he  announced  to  Cole.  "I  may  be  gone  two 
days." 

"All  right,  sir;  we'll  shove  the  work  along  all  we 
can  while  you  are  absent,"  answered  the  foreman. 

It  was  an  unusually  warm  day  when  Ross  left 
Durham  in  his  runabout  to  ride  to  Cressing  and  to 
several  places  beyond,  especially  the  localities  where 
the  gangs  employed  by  Breen  and  Shacker  were 
working.  The  young  contractor  was  a  bit  curious 
to  see  how  his  rivals  were  progressing. 


Caught  in  the  Storm  197 

"Undoubtedly  they  are  watching  me  like  a  dog 
watching  a  bone,"  he  told  himself.  "And  that 
being  so,  there  won't  be  any  harm  in  my  casting  an 
eye  their  way." 

Ross  had  been  on  the  road  only  a  few  miles  when 
he  made  the  discovery  that  Jerry  had  forgotten  to 
fill  up  the  gasoline  tank  of  the  runabout.  He  was 
close  to  a  country  home  at  the  time,  and  walked 
toward  the  barn,  where  he  saw  a  man  sharpening  a 
scythe  on  a  grindstone. 

"Yes,  I've  got  a  barrel  of  gasoline  on  hand,  and 
I'll  sell  you  four  or  five  gallons  if  you  want  it," 
said  the  man,  and  the  deal  was  quickly  made. 

Ross  was  just  finishing  pouring  the  gasoline  into 
the  tank,  when  the  front  door  of  the  country  home 
opened  and  two  girls  stepped  out  on  the  porch,  one 
evidently  the  daughter  of  the  household.  Ross  was 
surprised  to  see  that  the  other  girl  was  Ethel  By- 
with. 

"Why,  Mr.  Goodwin!  is  it  possible?"  cried  the 
trained  nurse.  "I  didn't  know  that  you  knew  my 
Uncle  Terry." 

"I  don't  know  that  I  do  know  him,  Miss  By- 
with,"  he  answered,  coming  toward  her.  "I  ran 
out  of  gasoline,  and  the  man  living  here  was  kind 
enough  to  let  me  have  some.  So  he  is  your  uncle  ?" 

"Yes.     And  this  is  my  cousin — Miss  Ward." 


198       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

A  pleasant  little  chat  followed,  and  Ross  learned 
that  the  trained  nurse  had  received  a  call  to  Finch- 
ville,  some  miles  beyond  Cressing. 

"I  had  one  of  the  jitney  drivers  bring  me  out 
here,"  she  explained.  "And  Uncle  Terry  said  he 
would  take  me  over  to  Finchville  this  afternoon." 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  Finchville  after  I  stop  at 
Cressing,"  Ross  answered  readily.  "If  you'd  like 
to  go  with  me,  I'll  save  your  uncle  the  trouble  of 
driving  you  over." 

"Oh,  my !  that  is  very  kind  of  you !  But  it  looks 
as  if  I  were  making  a  regular  taxicab  man  of  you," 
went  on  the  trained  nurse  demurely.  She  had  not 
forgotten  the  ride  to  Clankerton. 

"It  won't  be  any  hardship  for  me  to  have  you  for 
a  companion,"  he  announced  gallantly. 

"You  don't  want  to  leave  me  so  quickly,  Ethel," 
said  Miss  Ward  with  a  pout.  "I  thought  you  were 
going  to  stay  to  lunch." 

"Of  course  I  don't  want  to  deprive  her  of  lunch," 
said  Ross. 

"It's  half  past  eleven  already,"  went  on  the  young 
lady  of  the  house,  glancing  at  a  grandfather's  clock 
in  the  hallway.  "Why  can't  you  stay  over  and  have 
lunch  with  us,  Mr.  Goodwin?" 

"Oh,  that  would  be  splendid!  Do  stay!"  burst 
out  Ethel  Bywith.  "We're  going  to  have  some 


Caught  in  the  Storm  199 

fried  chicken,  and  peach  pie,  and  several  other 
good  things." 

An  invitation  from  two  good-looking  girls  to  a 
lunch  of  chicken,  pie,  and  other  good  things  was 
too  much  for  the  former  college  youth  to  resist,  and 
after  demurring  in  a  very  perfunctory  way,  Ross 
accepted  the  invitation,  and  ran  his  runabout  into 
the  farmyard. 

The  lunch  proved  to  be  all  that  the  girls  had 
promised,  and  after  the  young  contractor  had  been 
formally  introduced  to  Mrs.  Ward  and  her  husband, 
he  was  made  to  feel  thoroughly  at  home.  Ethel 
Bywith  was  extra  vivacious,  and  put  Ross  in  such 
good  humor  that  he  told  some  of  his  very  best  col- 
lege stories,  which  made  the  girls  shriek  with 
laughter.  Thus  over  an  hour  was  spent  at  the  table 
before  the  little  party  broke  up. 

"You  must  come  again,  Mr.  Goodwin,"  said  Miss 
Ward,  on  parting. 

"Thank  you,  perhaps  I  will,"  he  returned. 

"And  I  sure  hope  you'll  get  those  men  you  are 
looking  for,"  put  in  Terry  Ward.  "Only,  for 
goodness  sake!  don't  try  to  coax  away  any  of  my 
farm  hands.  It's  getting  so  these  days,  if  you  lose 
a  hand  you  don't  know  where  to  look  for  another." 

The  sun  had  been  shining  brightly,  and  so  far  the 
day  had  been  unusually  warm,  but  as  Ross  drove 


200      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

out  of  the  Ward  yard  with  Ethel  Bywith  on  the 
seat  beside  him,  the  young  contractor  noticed  that 
some  dark  clouds  were  looming  up  in  the  west. 
He  said  nothing  to  his  companion  about  this,  but 
they  caused  him  some  uneasiness. 

As  on  their  previous  ride,  Ethel  Bywith  did  her 
best  to  entertain  him,  and  being  a  good  talker  when 
over  her  shyness,  and  a  keen  judge  of  human  na- 
ture, she  soon  had  Ross  in  a  receptive  frame  of 
mind.  She  asked  him  many  questions  about  his 
business,  and  drew  from  him  all  the  particulars 
concerning  the  trouble  he  had  had  with  the  board 
of  health  and  with  Doctor  Parmalee. 

"Oh,  I  think  it  was  awful  for  Doctor  Parmalee 
to  act  that  way,"  declared  the  young  trained  nurse. 
"But  I  am  not  surprised.  He  has  a  very  large 
opinion  of  himself,  and  thinks  that  most  other  folks 
are  beneath  his  notice." 

"Well,  I  didn't  think  he  would  run  a  thing  like 
that  up  my  back  after  I  had  helped  him  to  get  the 
job  of  vaccinating  the  men." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Goodwin,  probably  the  doctor  thought 
he  was  doing  somebody  a  tremendous  favor  by  tak- 
ing that  job,"  went  on  the  trained  nurse.  And 
then,  after  a  pause,  she  continued:  "I  can't  really 
see  what  Miss  Poole  sees  in  him." 

"What  do  you  know  about  Miss  Poole  and  Doc- 
tor Parmalee?"  he  questioned  quickly. 


Caught  in  the  Storm  201 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  anything  except  that  they 
have  been  out  together  a  good  deal  lately.  When- 
ever she  sings  anywhere,  the  doctor  always  accom- 
panies her.  Some  folks  think  they  are  engaged. 
But  if  they  are,  they  haven't  announced  it." 

"I  don't  think  they  are  engaged — or  anything 
like  it,"  answered  Ross  shortly.  Nevertheless,  what 
the  trained  nurse  said  disturbed  him  much  more 
than  he  was  willing  to  admit,  even  to  himself. 

They  were  about  half  way  to  Cressing  when  they 
found  themselves  suddenly  confronted  by  a  sign 
in  the  middle  of  the  road,  telling  that  the  highway 
beyond  was  closed. 

"I  knew  they  were  going  to  repair  this  road,  but 
I  didn't  think  they  were  going  to  get  at  it  so 
quickly,"  said  the  young  contractor.  "It's  too  bad." 

"What  can  you  do?" 

"I  suppose  I'll  have  to  turn  back  and  take  that 
road  to  the  left.  It  isn't  near  as  nice  as  the  other, 
but  that  can't  be  helped." 

"Haven't  you  noticed  how  the  sun  is  going  under 
the  clouds?"  cried  the  girl,  looking  up  in  the  sky. 
"Oh,  my!  how  black  it  is  getting  over  to  the  west- 
ward!" 

"Yes,  I've  noticed  that,  but  I  didn't  want  to 
alarm  you." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Goodwin!  do  you  think  it  is  going  to 
storm  ?" 


202      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Possibly,  although  it  may  blow  over.  I  was  in 
hope  we  could  reach  Cressing  before  it  overtook 
us — and  we  would  surely  have  done  it  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  this  detour." 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  be  out  on  the  road  if  it 
thundered  and  lightened,"  went  on  the  young 
trained  nurse.  "That  is  one  thing  I  can't  stand. 
I  don't  mind  any  kind  of  an  operation,  but  when  it 
comes  to  thunder  and  lightning,  my  nerves  seem  to 
go  all  to  pieces ;"  and  her  face  showed  her  anxiety. 

"I'll  push  along  just  as  fast  as  I  can,"  returned 
Ross,  and  increased  the  speed  of  the  runabout  until 
they  were  bounding  over  the  somewhat  uneven  side 
road  at  a  rate  of  speed  which  was  not  altogether 
safe.  Several  times  they  struck  the  rough  rocks, 
and  both  were  in  danger  of  being  pitched  out. 
Then  came  a  sudden  flash  of  lightning  and  a  rumble 
of  thunder,  and,  in  added  alarm,  Ethel  Bywith 
clutched  the  young  contractor  by  the  arm. 

"Oh,  dear!  what  shall  we  do?"  she  cried. 

"You  just  sit  still,  and  we'll  get  out  of  this  some- 
how," he  returned.  "I'll  have  to  stop  the  car,  I 
guess,  and  put  up  the  top." 

He  brought  the  runabout  to  a  standstill  under 
some  overhanging  trees,  and  then  lost  no  time  in 
raising  the  top  and  also  adjusting  the  side  curtains. 
While  he  was  doing  this  the  wind  came  up  and 


Caught  in  the  Storm  203 

several  more  flashes  of  lightning  lit  up  the  land- 
scape, followed  by  increased  thunder.  Then  they 
heard  the  big  drops  of  rain  pattering  down  on  the 
leaves. 

"Oh,  if  we  were  only  in  Cressing !"  cried  the  girl, 
and  in  spite  of  her  effort  to  control  herself,  the 
tears  stood  in  her  eyes. 

"We'll  get  there — don't  worry,"  Ross  answered, 
and  started  forward  once  more. 

As  soon  as  they  had  left  the  shelter  of  the  trees, 
they  felt  the  full  force  of  the  storm.  The  wind 
was  blowing  freely,  and  this  dashed  the  increasing 
rain  against  the  windshield  and  the  side  curtains  of 
the  runabout.  Soon  the  young  contractor  was 
soaked  on  one  side.  He  had  only  a  small  robe  with 
him,  and  this  he  insisted  that  the  girl  should  place 
around  her  and  over  her  lap. 

"Oh,  don't  run  into  anything!"  she  gasped,  as 
they  turned  a  corner  of  the  road,  where  the  storm 
seemed  to  meet  them  with  increased  fury. 

"I'll  have  to  run  slowly — I  can't  see  very  well," 
he  answered.  "My,  we  certainly  are  in  a  pickle!" 

Ross  was  right  about  being  in  a  pickle,  but  how 
great  a  one  he  was  yet  to  realize.  They  went  for- 
ward about  a  hundred  yards  farther,  when,  of  a 
sudden,  they  struck  a  hole  which  he  was  unable  to 
see  because  of  the  raindrops  on  the  windshield. 


204      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

The  runabout  gave  a  sudden  lurch,  and  then  there 
was  a  crash  under  the  machine,  and  the  young  con- 
tractor brought  it  to  a  sudden  stop. 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  asked  the  frightened 
girl. 

"I  don't  know.  But  I  am  afraid  I  have  broken 
the  back  axle,"  was  Ross'  answer. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

AN  UNEXPECTED  MEETING 

THERE  was  no  help  for  it,  and  Ross  crawled  from 
under  the  curtains  of  the  runabout  to  the  roadway. 
The  rain  was  coming  down  in  torrents,  and  soon 
he  found  himself  wet  almost  to  the  skin,  despite  the 
rain  curtain  he  had  thrown  over  his  shoulders. 

A  brief  investigation  of  the  damage  done  showed 
him  that  he  could  not  go  on.  The  back  axle  was 
bent,  and  one  of  the  wheels  had  come  off,  and  this 
mishap  would  necessitate  repairs  which  no  one  but 
a  skilled  machinist  with  the  necessary  tools  could 
make. 

"How  bad  is  it?"  asked  the  girl,  peering  forth 
from  between  the  curtains. 

"It's  so  bad  that  the  runabout  is  out  of  commis- 
sion," he  answered  gravely.  "Confound  the  luck! 
I'm  afraid  you'll  never  forgive  me  for  this  adven- 
ture, Miss  Bywith." 

"Oh,  it  isn't  your  fault,"  she  returned  quickly. 
"And  I  wouldn't  mind  it  in  the  least  if  it  wasn't  for 
this  dreadful  thunder  and  lightning.  Oh!"  And 
she  shrank  back  as  another  illumination  lit  up  the 
landscape,  followed  by  a  deafening  crash  that 
reverberated  across  the  hills. 

205 


206      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

What  to  do  next,  the  young  contractor  hardly 
knew.  The  road  which  they  had  been  traveling  was 
a  strange  one  to  him,  and  so  far  as  he  could  see, 
there  was  not  a  farmhouse  in  sight. 

"I'll  take  a  better  look  when  the  next  flash  of 
lightning  comes,"  he  told  himself. 

By  the  flash  he  made  out  a  long,  low  building  a 
short  distance  up  the  road.  What  it  was,  he  could 
only  surmise. 

"I  think  yonder  is  a  cow-shed,"  he  announced  to 
the  girl.  "Would  you  rather  stay  here  in  the  run- 
about for  the  present,  or  go  up  there  to  the  shed? 
Perhaps  that  would  be  a  drier  place  than  this." 

"Oh,  yes,  let  us  go  up  to  the  shed,  by  all  means !" 
she  answered. 

"You  had  better  throw  the  robe  and  one  of  the 
curtains  over  your  head.  They  will  protect  you  a 
little,"  he  said  kindly. 

He  assisted  her  from  the  runabout,  and  the  pair 
ran  up  the  muddy  and  rocky  roadway  hand  in  hand, 
arriving  at  the  long,  low  building  almost  out  of 
breath.  He  kicked  open  one  of  the  doors,  and  they 
entered  just  as  another  flash  of  lightning  and  crash 
of  thunder  was  followed  by  an  increased  downpour. 

As  Ross  had  surmised,  the  place  was  a  cow-shed, 
and  had  evidently  not  been  in  use  for  several  years. 
No  other  buildings  were  in  sight,  and  later  on  he 


An  Unexpected  Meeting  207 

learned  that  several  years  before  the  dwelling  and 
stables  belonging  to  that  farm  had  burnt  down 
and  had  never  been  replaced. 

"Oh,  my,  what  an  awful  adventure!"  cried  the 
young  trained  nurse,  when  she  could  catch  her 
breath.  Ross  had  found  a  seat  for  her  on  an 
empty  feed  box,  and  was  resting  on  another  box 
near  by,  the  water  dripping  from  his  clothing. 
Fortunately,  the  robe  and  rain  curtain  had  pro- 
tected the  girl  to  a  large  extent,  and  these  she  had 
thrown  over  a  nearby  rail. 

"It  certainly  is,"  returned  the  young  contractor. 
"I  don't  know  of  anything  we  can  do  until  this 
rain  lets  up.  I  might  tramp  down  the  road  until 
I  came  to  some  farmhouse,  but  I  hate  to  leave  you 
alone." 

"Oh,  don't  go!  I  don't  want  to  be  left  alone  in 
such  an  awful  storm  as  this." 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  go  back  and  see  if  I  can't 
shove  that  runabout  out  of  the  road.  In  this  storm 
and  gathering  darkness  somebody  might  run  into 
it." 

"Well,  please  don't  be  gone  too  long." 

"You  can  rest  assured,  Miss  Bywith,  I  won't 
stay  out  in  this  rain  a  minute  longer  than  I  have 
to,"  he  laughed. 

"Why  not  take  the  robe  ?    That's  a  good  deal  bet- 


208      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

ter  than  nothing.  Come,  I  will  help  you  wring  it 
out." 

Between  them  they  wrung  all  the  water  possible 
from  the  robe,  and  then  she  helped  him  drape  it 
over  his  shoulders  in  cape  fashion  along  with  the 
curtain. 

"There,  now  you  look  like  a  soldier  ready  for 
the  trenches!"  she  said,  giving  him  a  bright  look. 
"But  please  remember,  I  don't  want  to  stay  here 
alone  in  this  storm  any  longer  than  I  have  to;" 
and  she  watched  him  as  he  dashed  off  down  the 
rocky  roadway,  splashing  through  several  mud- 
puddles  as  he  went. 

Arriving  at  the  runabout,  the  young  contractor 
made  another  investigation.  He  found  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  attempt  to  use  the  motor  power 
of  the  machine,  so,  raising  up  the  axle  where  the 
wheel  was  missing,  he  managed,  though  not  with- 
out great  effort,  to  push  the  runabout  off  to  one 
side  of  the  road  into  some  bushes.  Then  he  lit  the 
rear  light  and  one  of  the  headlights,  and  threw  the 
broken-off  wheel  under  the  chassis  of  the  machine. 

"Now  I  guess  she'll  have  to  stay  there  until 
somebody  comes  to  jack  her  up  and  haul  her  away," 
was  his  conclusion. 

In  the  pocket  of  one  of  the  doors,  Ross  had  left  a 
notebook  and  a  number  of  documents.  These  he 


An  Unexpected  Meeting  209 

brought  forth  and  stowed  away  in  his  pockets.  He 
was  just  finishing  the  task  when  he  saw  a  large  and 
partly  enclosed  car  coming  from  the  direction  of 
Durham. 

"Hello,  maybe  that  fellow  will  give  us  a  lift!" 
he  cried,  and  put  up  his  hand  to  stop  the  on-coming 
automobile. 

As  the  touring  car  came  closer,  Ross  recognized 
it  as  one  belonging  to  the  main  garage  in  Durham. 
It  was  driven  by  the  garage  owner  himself,  who 
stopped  in  surprise  on  beholding  the  young  con- 
tractor. 

"Hello!  what's  the  matter?  Have  you  had  an 
accident?"  he  questioned  quickly. 

"That's  the  size  of  it,  Lapham,"  answered  Ross. 
"I  got  caught  in  this  confounded  storm,  and 
couldn't  see  for  the  rain  on  my  windshield.  I  went 
down  in  that  hole  yonder,  and  bent  my  back  axle 
and  broke  off  one  of  the  wheels." 

"You  didn't  get  hurt,  did  you?" 

"Nothing  more  than  a  wetting.  Where  are  you 
bound,  Lapham?"  and  as  Ross  asked  the  question 
he  looked  towards  the  occupants  of  the  enclosed 
part  of  the  car,  and  was  much  surprised  to  behold 
Margaret,  Mrs.  Poole  and  Mr.  Thomas  Poole,  the 
lawyer  from  Cressing. 

"Sure,  I  can  take  you  along,"  answered  Lapham, 


210      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

without  hesitation.  "You  can  sit  here  in  front 
with  me  if  the  folks  inside  object  to  you  on  account 
of  your  being  so  wet." 

Those  in  the  car  had  been  so  engaged  in  conver- 
sation that  they  had  not  observed  what  was  taking 
place.  Now,  however,  Margaret  and  the  others 
looked  out,  and  the  girl  at  once  recognized  Ross. 

"Oh,  Uncle  Tom,  it's  Mr.  Goodwin!"  she  cried. 
"Out  there  in  the  rain!  Do  open  the  door  and  let 
him  get  in,"  and  then,  as  her  uncle  threw  open  the 
door,  she  added:  "What  in  the  world  are  you 
doing  out  in  such  a  storm  as  this,  Ross?" 

"How  do  you  do,"  he  answered  somewhat  con- 
fusedly, and  raised  his  dripping  cap.  "Nice  day 
for  a  stroll,  isn't  it?"  He  said  this  because,  for  the 
moment,  he  did  not  know  what  else  to  say. 

"Surely,  Ross,  you  haven't  been  out  walking  in 
this  storm !"  put  in  Mrs.  Poole. 

"I  have  had  a  breakdown.  There  is  my  machine 
up  the  road,"  and  he  jerked  his  thumb  in  that  direc- 
tion. "Went  down  in  a  big  hole  and  knocked  off 
a  wheel." 

"Well,  be  thankful  you  weren't  hurt,"  put  in 
Thomas  Poole.  He  was  just  old-fashioned  enough 
to  prefer  horses  to  an  automobile,  and  always 
looked  for  an  accident  every  time  he  took  a  ride 
in  a  machine. 


An  Unexpected  Meeting  211 

"Why,  you  are  soaked!"  cried  Margaret,  glanc- 
ing down  at  the  young  man's  dripping  figure.  "Get 
inhere!" 

"Oh,  I  guess  I'd  better  sit  in  front,"  he  answered. 
"I'm  too  wet  to  sit  in  there." 

"You  had  better  not,  Ross,"  answered  Mrs. 
Poole.  "You  may  catch  your  death  of  cold,  even  if 
it  is  summer  weather.  Were  you  going  to  Cres- 
sing?" 

"Yes — Cressing  and  Finchville." 

"Well,  we  are  going  to  Cressing,  to  visit  with 
my  uncle  and  his  folks,"  said  Margaret.  "We  can 
take  you  along,  and  you  must  not  think  of  riding 
outside  with  the  driver." 

"Oh,  he  is  pretty  well  protected  with  his  cur- 
tains," answered  Ross.  But  just  then  he  was  not 
thinking  of  where  he  was  going  to  ride.  He  was 
thinking  of  Ethel  By  with. 

As  if  following  his  thoughts,  Margaret  asked 
suddenly:  "Were  you  alone,  Ross?" 

"No,"  he  answered,  and  in  spite  of  his  effort  to 
appear  unconcerned,  he  felt  his  cheeks  flushing. 
"I  had  Miss  Bywith  with  me." 

"Oh!"  That  was  all  Margaret  said,  but  there 
was  much  meaning  in  the  single  expression. 

"You  see — I  had  to  stop  at  a  house  along  the 
road  for  some  gasoline,"  he  explained,  somewhat 


212      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

lamely.  "It  was  a  farm  run  by  a  man  named  Ward. 
Miss  Bywith  is  his  niece,  and  she  was  stopping 
there,  but  she  wanted  to  go  to  Finchville.  So,  as  I 
was  coming  up  to  Cressing  and  Finchville,  I  told 
her  to  come  along." 

"Where  is  Miss  Bywith  now?"  questioned  Mrs. 
Poole. 

"I  took  her  to  the  only  shelter  I  could  find — a 
cow-shed  a  little  farther  up  the  road,"  answered 
Ross.  He  looked  at  Margaret  and  saw  that  the 
girl  was  biting  her  lip. 

"Well,  get  in,  and  we'll  take  you  along,  and  Miss 
Bywith,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Poole.  And  then,  as  there 
seemed  nothing  else  to  do,  Ross  entered  the  touring 
car,  and  they  told  the  driver  to  go  ahead. 

In  a  minute  more  they  reached  the  cow-shed,  and 
Ross  sprang  out  again  and  threw  open  the  door, 
which  the  trained  nurse  had  closed  in  order  to  keep 
out  the  driving  rain. 

"Here's  a  chance  for  a  ride,"  he  explained.  "An 
enclosed  car  came  along,  and  they  are  going  to 
Cressing  and  will  take  us  both  along.  I  think 
maybe  you  know  the  folks — Mrs.  Poole  and  her 
daughter,  Margaret,  and  Mr.  Poole,  the  lawyer 
from  Cressing." 

"Oh,  isn't  that  lovely!"  cried  the  trained  nurse, 
in  relieved  tones.  "Yes,  I've  met  Miss  Poole. 
She's  the  young  lady  who  does  so  much  singing  for 


An  Unexpected  Meeting  213 

charity.  They  say  she  has  a  lovely  voice.  I'll  be 
mighty  glad  to  get  out  of  this  place — it  leaks  like 
a  sieve!" 

All  of  the  Pooles  had  crowded  on  to  the  back 
seat  of  the  enclosed  car,  leaving  the  two  front 
chairs  for  the  two  others.  Margaret  welcomed 
Miss  Bywith  rather  stiffly,  and  then  introduced  her 
mother  and  her  uncle.  As  soon  as  Ross  and  the 
trained  nurse  were  seated,  the  enclosed  car  resumed 
its  journey  towards  Cressing. 

It  was  an  awkward  situation  in  more  ways  than 
one,  and  no  one  realized  this  more  keenly  than  did 
the  young  contractor.  He  did  his  best  to  appear  at 
ease,  but  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  effort  was 
not  much  of  a  success. 

"And  to  think  I  thought  I  was  going  to  have  a 
lovely  afternoon  with  Mr.  Goodwin!"  Ethel  By- 
with prattled  on  during  the  course  of  the  conversa- 
tion. "When  we  left  my  uncle's  house  the  sun  was 
shining  beautifully,  and  I  did  not  imagine  that  we 
would  run  into  any  such  storm  as  this  is  proving 
to  be." 

"At  this  time  of  the  year  a  summer  shower  is 
apt  to  come  up  almost  any  time,"  remarked  Thomas 
Poole. 

"But  such  thunder  and  lightning!"  went  on  the 
trained  nurse.  "I  can  stand  almost  anything  but 


214      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

that.  I  remember  once  when  I  was  in  attendance  at 
an  operation  in  the  hospital  from  which  I  gradu- 
ated, we  had  just  such  a  storm  as  this.  I  was 
almost  unnerved,  and  I  had  to  beg  the  doctors  to 
excuse  me.  That  almost  gave  me  a  black  mark  on 
the  records.  I  told  the  doctors  I  could  stand  any- 
thing in  the  way  of  operations,  but  they  would  have 
to  be  held  when  there  was  no  thunder  and  light- 
ning," and  she  laughed  a  bit  hysterically. 

"I  don't  blame  you,  Miss  Bywith,"  said  Mrs. 
Poole  kindly.  "I  detest  the  thunder  and  lightning 
myself.  When  I  was  younger,  I  used  to  throw 
myself  into  a  featherbed  and  cover  myself  all  up," 
and  she  laughed  at  the  recollection. 

"Did  you  ever  have  to  sing  in  a  thunder  storm?" 
questioned  the  trained  nurse  of  Margaret  suddenly. 

"I  did  once — at  a  concert  given  over  in  Landing- 
ham,"  was  the  reply. 

"And  didn't  it  scare  you?" 

"I  must  confess  it  did  not,  Miss  Bywith.  I  was 
simply  annoyed  because  my  voice  was  not  strong 
enough  to  outsing  the  thunder." 

"By  gad!  a  girl  would  have  to  have  some  voice 
to  drown  out  this  thunder,"  chuckled  the  lawyer; 
and  at  this  sally  everybody  had  to  laugh,  and  for 
the  instant  the  tension  was  relieved. 

Nevertheless,  there  was  a  certain  restraint  in  the 


An  Unexpected  Meeting  215 

talk,  and  more  than  once  there  was  a  spell  of  silence 
which  no  one  seemed  to  be  able  to  break.  Ross 
could  not  keep  his  thoughts  from  Margaret,  and 
more  than  once  he  tried  to  catch  her  eye,  but  she 
always  averted  her  gaze.  When  they  rolled  onto 
the  main  street  of  Cressing  and  drew  up  in  front 
of  the  lawyer's  homestead,  he  breathed  a  sigh  of 
relief. 

"Will  you  folks  come  in?"  questioned  Mr.  Poole. 
"Perhaps  you  had  better  do  it  and  get  some  dry 
clothing  on." 

"Miss  Bywith  wishes  to  get  to  Finchville,"  said 
Ross.  "And  I'll  have  to  get  somebody  to  look  after 
my  broken-down  runabout.  Are  you  going  to  use 
this  car  any  more?" 

"No,  I'm  done  with  it  for  the  present.  You  see, 
it's  my  wife's  birthday,  and  I  brought  the  other 
folks  up  here,  so  that  we  might  do  a  little  celebrat- 
ing this  evening." 

"I  see,  Mr.  Poole.  Then,  if  you  don't  mind,  I 
will  hire  the  car  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  I've  got  to 
go  through  to  Finchville  anyhow.  And  that  is 
where  Miss  Bywith  wishes  to  go,"  Ross  added 
somewhat  hastily. 

He  had  tried  his  best  during  the  last  minute  or 
so  to  get  a  word  in  private  with  Margaret,  but  she 
had  avoided  him. 


216      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"But,  Ross,  you  are  all  wet!"  protested  Mrs. 
Poole. 

"Oh,  don't  bother  about  me,  Mrs.  Poole.  I  can 
dry  off  at  the  hotel,  or  somewhere.  I'll  be  all  right." 

"Well,  good-bye,"  said  Margaret,  rather  abrupt- 
ly, and  turned  and  entered  the  house.  She  had 
given  Ross  a  look  which  puzzled  him  a  good  deal. 
Her  mother  and  the  lawyer  followed  her. 

"I'm  afraid  Miss  Poole  didn't  like  it  much  that 
we  broke  in  on  their  party,"  was  the  trained  nurse's 
comment,  when  the  touring  car  was  once  more  on 
its  way,  the  young  contractor  having  come  to  terms 
with  the  driver. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  returned  Ross,  somewhat 
confusedly.  "Perhaps  she  was  tired.  She  sings 
a  great  deal,  you  know,  and  has  to  travel  around  to 
quite  a  few  places." 

"I  wish  I  had  her  gift  of  singing.  It  must  be 
great  to  thrill  an  audience,"  and  the  nurse  sighed. 

The  sudden  shower  was  now  clearing  away,  and 
by  the  time  Cressing  was  left  behind  the  rain  had 
practically  ceased.  Long  before  Finchville  was 
reached  the  sun  was  peeping  out  from  behind  the 
clouds. 

"We're  going  to  have  a  little  sunshine  after  all !" 
cried  the  girl,  when  the  ride  had  come  to  an  end 
and  Ross  was  bidding  her  good-bye. 


An  Unexpected  Meeting  217 

"Perhaps  so,"  he  returned.  Yet,  as  he  rode 
away  alone,  he  thought  that  the  sunshine,  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned,  just  then  did  not  amount  to 
much.  His  thoughts  were  on  Margaret  and  what 
she  might  be  thinking  of  the  afternoon's  happening. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   ROCK  DRILL 

AFTER  leaving  Ethel  Bywith,  Ross  lost  no  time  in 
hurrying  to  the  Finchville  hotel.  There  he  ex- 
plained to  the  clerk  his  predicament,  and  obtained 
the  loan  of  some  dry  clothing  while  his  own  gar- 
ments were  hung  up  before  a  fire. 

Lighting  his  old  bulldog  pipe,  he  sat  down  in  a 
corner  of  the  reading-room  and  gave  himself  up  to 
his  reflections. 

"If  ever  a  man  made  a  mess  of  things,  I  am 
doing  it,"  he  reasoned  bitterly.  "Instead  of  placat- 
ing Margaret,  I  am  letting  her  draw  further  and 
further  away  from  me.  Doctor  Parmalee  must 
have  told  her  all  about  my  former  ride  with  Miss 
Bywith,  and  now  I  suppose  she'll  think  that  those 
rides  are  a  regular  thing.  Of  course,  the  trained 
nurse  is  a  real  nice  girl,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing, 
but  I  don't  want  Margaret,  or  anybody  else,  to  get 
the  idea  that  I  am  keeping  company  with  her,  or 
anything  like  that,"  and  he  puffed  away  vigorously. 

While  at  the  hotel  Ross  met  several  men  con- 
nected with  the  railroad,  and  all  questioned  him 
concerning  the  contract  which  he  had  undertaken. 

218 


The  Rock  Drill  219 

"Some  of  your  rivals  predict  that  you  are  going 
to  fall  down  on  that  contract,"  said  one  of  the  men, 
a  very  out-spoken  individual.  "How  about  it,  Good- 
win?" 

"It  will  be  time  enough  to  howl  when  I  do  fall 
down  on  it,"  he  answered  abruptly. 

"They  had  one  of  your  advertisements  calling 
for  laborers  tacked  up  on  the  billboard  out  yon- 
der," went  on  the  man,  "but  last  night  somebody 
came  along  and  tore  it  off." 

"Must  have  been  some  friend  of  mine,"  answered 
the  young  contractor  cynically. 

"Oh,  you  can  bet  your  rivals  are  not  throwing 
you  any  bouquets." 

As  soon  as  he  was  in  a  position  to  do  so,  Ross 
took  a  look  around  Finchville,  and  then  rode  back 
to  dressing.  Here  he  obtained  the  services  of  a 
garage  man,  and  both  went  out  to  look  at  the 
broken-down  runabout. 

"It  will  take  several  days  for  me  to  get  that  ma- 
chine fixed  up,"  said  the  man.  "I  think  the  best 
thing  you  can  do  is  to  leave  it  here,  and  after  I've 
got  it  all  fixed  I'll  bring  it  over  to  Durham  for 
you;"  and  so  it  was  arranged. 

Although  he  had  hardly  dared  to  admit  it  to 
himself,  Ross  had  hoped  to  see  Margaret  again 
before  leaving  Cressing.  The  girl,  however,  did 


220      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

not  appear  on  the  main  street,  and  when  he  walked 
past  the  lawyer's  residence,  he  saw  that  there  was 
a  regular  family  gathering  in  progress  around  the 
table  in  the  dining-room. 

"It  won't  do  for  me  to  butt  in  there,"  he  told 
himself.  "Probably  she  wouldn't  like  it."  And  so 
he  went  on  his  way,  and  thus  lost  another  oppor- 
tunity to  come  to  an  understanding  with  the  girl  he 
so  fondly  loved. 

The  summer  storm,  which  had  brought  such  an 
adventure  to  the  young  contractor,  was  followed  by 
several  days  of  very  hot  weather.  Then,  however, 
it  grew  suddenly  cooler,  and  a  gentle  rain  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  steady  downpour,  which  lasted  for  three 
days.  The  rain  was  so  heavy  that  little  or  nothing 
could  be  done  on  the  railroad  job,  and  the  young 
contractor  was  compelled  to  take  a  rest  in  spite  of 
himself.  This  rest,  however,  was  something  which 
he  greatly  needed,  for  the  unaccustomed  strain  was 
beginning  to  tell  upon  the  young  college  man.  Yet 
he  chafed  to  think  that  the  storm  meant  only  an- 
other delay,  and  one  which  he  could  ill  afford.  To 
him  it  looked  as  if  the  elements  had  combined  with 
his  enemies  to  defeat  him. 

During  those  rainy  days  fully  fifty  men  came  in 
from  various  points  to  take  up  with  the  offer  which 
Gorgi  and  his  assistant  had  faithfully  posted.  Ross 


The  Rock  Drill  221 

and  Cole  looked  these  men  over  personally  and 
spoke  to  them  through  Gorgi  and  Lamp-post.  They 
selected  thirty-six,  refusing  to  accept  fourteen  men 
who  had  come  in  from  the  local  quarries  and  from 
the  work  being  done  by  the  railroad  company  itself. 

"That  will  square  us  with  the  quarry  people  and 
with  the  railroad  company,"  said  the  young  con- 
tractor. 

"Out  of  the  batch  there  are  twenty-eight  men 
who  used  to  work  for  Breen  and  Shacker,"  replied 
Cole.  "And  one  of  the  men  told  me  that  others 
were  coming  over  as  soon  as  they  were  certain  that 
the  offer  was  genuine." 

"One  man  told  me  that  Shacker  went  around 
tearing  down  the  cards  wherever  he  could  find 
them,"  said  Ross.  "I  guess  you  were  right  when 
you  said  he  and  Breen  would  be  mad  enough  to 
murder  me  in  cold  blood.  I'll  have  to  keep  my  eyes 
and  ears  wide  open  after  this." 

The  rock  drill  had  not  yet  come  in,  but  it  had 
been  located  in  a  freight  yard  at  Cleveland,  and 
was  now  on  the  way  to  Durham.  The  tag  on  the 
car  had  been  forwarded  to  the  manufacturer  in 
Pittsburg,  and  he  had  sent  it  to  Ross,  stating  that 
the  tag  had  been  tampered  with  by  some  party  un- 
known. 

Ross  looked  the  tag  over  with  deep  interest.  The 


222      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

name  of  Durham  had  been  scraped  away  and  Cleve- 
land substituted,  and  there  was  a  slip  attached,  noti- 
fying some  freight  agent  to  correct  the  way  bill. 

"This  is,  no  doubt,  the  work  of  Breen,  Shacker, 
O'Mara  and  Company,"  said  the  young  contractor. 
"If  only  I  could  prove  it,  I'd  have  some  of  them 
behind  the  bars." 

"To  me  that  handwriting  looks  like  that  of  Ike 
Shacker,"  said  Cole.  "He  always  puts  a  flourish 
after  a  name  when  he  writes  it." 

The  lawyer  in  Philadelphia  had  already  sent  a 
private  detective  out  to  see  Ross.  The  man  was  a 
tall,  awkward-looking  fellow  named  Paul  Vance. 
He  had  made  himself  up  to  resemble  a  fellow  just 
from  the  farm,  and  in  public  assumed  a  drawl  that 
was  a  marvel  of  perfection. 

"I  would  like  to  hear  your  whole  story,  Mr.  Good- 
win," said  Paul  Vance.  "Please  give  me  all  the 
particulars." 

"I'll  give  you  what  particulars  I  can,"  Ross  re- 
plied, and  thereupon  related  how  he  had  been  at- 
tacked at  the  cliff,  and  of  what  O'Mara,  Breen  and 
Shacker  had  done  to  make  him  fall  down  on  the 
railroad  contract. 

"It  certainly  looks  as  if  those  fellows  might  be 
guilty,"  said  the  detective,  "although  there  is  no 
use  in  guessing  at  it.  In  court,  a  fellow  has  not 


The  Rock  Drill  223 

only  got  to  know  a  thing,  he  has  got  to  prove  it." 

"I  know  that;  and  that  is  why  I  have  done  noth- 
ing on  my  own  hook.  I  didn't  want  to  add  to  my 
troubles,"  and  the  young  contractor  smiled  grimly. 

"Well,  I'll  get  to  work  at  once,"  went  on  Vance. 
"But  don't  expect  results  too  quickly,  Mr.  Good- 
win. You  know  a  case  like  this  has  got  to  be  han- 
dled with  a  great  deal  of  caution." 

"I  understand.  Just  the  same,  the  quicker  you 
get  results,  the  better  I'll  be  pleased." 

"One  question  more,"  went  on  the  detective. 
"Are  you  sure  you  can  trust  your  foreman,  Larry 
Cole?" 

"Yes,  I'll  swear  by  Cole  every  time." 

"Then  just  give  me  a  note  to  him.  I  may  have 
to  ask  him  for  some  information,  or  maybe  for 
some  assistance." 

"All  right,  you  can  have  the  note,"  and  Ross 
wrote  it  out  then  and  there. 

"Then  that's  all,  Mr.  Goodwin,  and  you  needn't 
bother  your  head  about  this  matter  again  until  you 
hear  from  me." 

"All  right,  do  your  best,"  was  the  injunction 
from  the  young  contractor.  "And  remember,  if 
O'Mara  is  guilty,  I  want  him  brought  to  justice — 
no  matter  what  the  cost." 

"I  understand  that." 


224      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"And  if  you  find  that  Breen  and  Shacker  are  also 
implicated,  I  don't  want  you  to  spare  them." 

"But  what  if  the  guilty  party  is  some  outsider, 
Mr.  Goodwin?" 

"Then  I  want  to  know  it  just  the  same." 


CHAPTER  XX 

THREE   AGAINST   ONE 

AT  last  everything  seemed  to  be  moving  along 
swimmingly  once  more,  and  Ross  was  correspond- 
ingly happy.  He  had  now  nearly  all  the  men  he 
could  handle  to  advantage,  and  everybody  worked 
with  a  will,  anxious  to  get  the  bonus  that  had  been 
promised.  The  steam  shovel  was  also  doing  won- 
ders, and  the  rock  drill  proved  to  be  what  the  manu- 
facturer guaranteed — first-class  in  every  particular. 
Some  nitro-glycerine  had  already  come  in  for  the 
blasting,  and  several  cases  of  dynamite  had  been 
promised  in  the  course  of  ten  days  or  two  weeks. 

Ross  had  met  Flood  twice  since  the  affair  at  the 
freight  office,  and  the  man  was  exceedingly  sour  on 
the  young  contractor.  This  was  not  to  be  wondered 
at,  for  it  was  pretty  well  established  that  Flood  had 
had  something  to  do  with  the  mis-shipping  of  the 
flat  car,  and  the  fellow  had  come  close  to  losing  his 
situation  as  a  consequence. 

"You're  a  fly  young  rooster,"  he  had  said,  on 
meeting  Ross.  "But  some  day  you'll  have  your 
wings  clipped." 

"Possibly,  Flood,"  he  had  answered.  "But  you 
haven't  the  shears  to  do  it  with." 

225 


226      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

One  evening,  having  knocked  off  early,  Ross 
arrayed  himself  in  his  best  with  a  view  to  calling 
upon  Margaret.  He  felt  that  he  owed  her  this 
visit,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  because  she  had 
taken  such  an  interest  in  him  during  his  sickness. 
He  also  wished  to  explain  to  her  more  in  detail  how 
lie  had  come  to  take  Ethel  Bywith  and  Jennie  Mar- 
tinson riding. 

"Of  course,  she  may  not  be  interested  at  all,"  he 
told  himself  dismally.  "For  all  I  know,  she  may 
be  so  completely  wrapped  up  in  Parmalee  that  she 
no  longer  cares  a  rap  for  me.  He  is  a  professional 
man,  and  that  is  the  kind  she  admires.  More  than 
that,  she  wouldn't  be  human  if  she  wasn't  pleased 
by  the  way  he  hangs  around  her  and  escorts  her  to 
all  the  places  where  she  sings." 

It  took  some  time  for  him  to  screw  up  his  cour- 
age to  the  point  of  going,  for  he  was  doubtful  how 
he  would  be  received,  and  to  get  the  "cold  shoul- 
der" from  Margaret  was  more  than  he  felt  he  could 
bear. 

"Maybe  I  had  better  telephone  and  see  if  she  is 
at  home,"  he  told  himself.  But  the  line  was  just 
then  out  of  commission,  so  Central  told  him,  and 
would  not  be  repaired  until  morning. 

"Oh,  hang  it  all  I  I'll  go  and  have  it  over  with," 
he  told  himself  finally.  "I'm  not  going  to  see-saw 


Three  Against  One  227 

around  any  longer."  Then  he  remembered  the 
affair  before  the  health  board,  and  his  brow  clouded. 
"If  she's  in  love  with  the  doctor,  she'll  hate  me  for 
giving  him  such  a  dressing  down.  Oh,  hang  the 
luck,  anyhow!  maybe  I  made  a  mistake  in  taking 
up  this  contracting  job,  after  all.  I  suppose  I  might 
have  become  a  lawyer  if  I  had  set  my  mind  to  it." 

He  realized  now  how  much  Margaret  was  to  him, 
and  the  thought  that  she  might  marry  such  a  shal- 
low fellow  as  Parmalee  was  maddening  to  him.  As 
he  started  off  towards  the  Poole  home,  he  was  half 
of  a  mind  to  propose  to  her  if  the  opportunity 
offered,  and  thus  be  sure  of  his  fate  without  addi- 
tional worry. 

But,  as  he  approached  the  house  in  the  gathering 
darkness,  he  saw  Margaret's  mother  sitting  on  the 
piazza  alone.  He  hesitated  at  the  gate,  but  before 
he  could  turn  away  the  lady  called  to  him,  and  he 
was  forced  to  come  in  and  sit  down  beside  her. 

"I  am  sorry  that  Margaret  is  out,"  said  Mrs. 
Poole.  "She  offered  to  sing  at  an  orphan  asylum 
benefit  in  Finchville  this  afternoon,  and  Doctor 
Parmalee  insisted  upon  it  that  he  be  allowed  to  drive 
her  over  and  back.  I  presume  she  will  return  by 
nine  o'clock.  How  are  you  getting  along  with  the 
railroad  work?" 

"We  are  doing  very  well  now,  thank  you,"  an- 


228       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

swered  Ross,  in  an  absent-minded  manner.  He  was 
thinking  of  that  drive  to  Finchville,  along  the  beau- 
tiful brook  and  through  the  green  hills.  It  was 
a  drive  he  and  Margaret  had  taken  years  before, 
when  they  were  the  best  of  chums.  It  was  truly 
romantic  in  spots,  and  he  wondered  if  the  coming 
home  in  the  moonlight  would  make  either  Margaret 
or  the  doctor  sentimental. 

"You  must  not  overwork  yourself,  Ross,"  went 
on  the  widow,  kindly.  "Remember,  you  have  been 
very  ill." 

"Oh,  I  don't  expect  to  die  of  overwork,"  he  said, 
laughing,  he  knew  not  why.  "I'm  bound  to  put  that 
contract  through  on  time." 

"So  some  folks  in  town  told  me.  By  the  way, 
have  they  discovered  the  man  who  struck  you 
down?" 

"Not  yet;  but  we  are  on  his  track." 

"It  was  certainly  a  desperate  piece  of  work,xand 
how  queer  that  they  should  have  arrested  your  fore- 
man for  it!" 

"Arresting  Cole  was  the  craziest  thing  I  ever 
heard  of,  Mrs.  Poole.  Why,  that  man  is  my  best 
friend." 

"So  Margaret  thought.  I  suppose  you  thought 
it  awfully  queer  that  she  took  such  an  interest  in 
the  matter." 


Three  Against  One  229 

"Margaret  was  always  my  friend" 

"Yes ;  but  not  many  girls  would  go  around  trying 

to  get  a  man  like  that  bailed  out.  She Oh, 

what  is  the  matter?  What  makes  you  look  so  sur- 
prised? Didn't  you  know " 

"No,  I  didn't  know,  Mrs.  Poole.  And  so  it  was 
Margy  who  had  Larry  Cole  bailed  out?  Bully  for 
her!"  Ross'  face  beamed  with  pleasure.  "I  wish 
I  had  known  of  this  before.  Cole  didn't  say  a  word. 
I  suppose  she  made  him  promise  to  keep  quiet?" 
and  he  looked  inquiringly  at  the  lady. 

"Yes,  so  I  heard;  and  she  made  her  uncle  keep 
quiet  too." 

"Her  uncle?  Do  you  mean  Mr.  Thomas  Poole, 
the  lawyer?" 

"Yes.  Now  that  you  know  the  truth,  I  might 
as  well  let  you  know  some  of  the  particulars.  But 
what  Margy  will  say  when  she  finds  it  out,  I  don't 
know.  You  see,  she  got  it  in  her  head  that  if  you 
failed  on  that  railroad  contract,  you  would  lose 
twenty  thousand  dollars.  So  she  had  her  Uncle 
Tom  take  the  matter  up,  and  he  arranged  for  your 
foreman's  bail." 

"And  she  never  said  a  word  to  me  about  it!" 
Ross'  face  was  beaming.  Had  Margaret  been  pres- 
ent at  that  moment,  he  would  undoubtedly  have  pro- 
posed to  her  on  the  spot. 


230      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

After  that  an  hour  slipped  by  pleasantly  enough. 
Ross  wanted  to  know  more  of  the  details,  and  Mrs. 
Poole  told  him  all  she  knew.  It  made  him  love 
Margaret  more  than  ever,  and  as  he  realized  how 
she  had  stood  up  for  him  when  he  lay  helpless,  his 
heart  went  out  to  her  as  never  before.  Surely  she 
was  one  girl  in  a  thousand,  and  well  worth  the  win- 
ning, no  matter  what  obstacles  might  lay  in  the 
way. 

"I  have  got  to  make  good  with  Margaret,"  he 
told  himself.  "I've  just  got  to!".  He  felt  that  if 
he  could  not  win  her,  nothing  else  in  this  world 
would  be  worth  while. 

"I  want  to  know  what  you  think  of  Doctor  Par- 
malee,  Ross,"  Mrs.  Poole  said,  when  he  was  on  the 
point  of  leaving. 

"Mrs  Poole,  I  would  prefer  that  you  ask  that 
question  of  some  one  else,"  he  answered  gravely. 

"Yes,  but,  Ross  you  know  him  quite  well.  You 
had  such  a  time  with  him  over  that  health  board 
affair,"  went  on  the  widow.  "And  I  have  known 
you  so  long  and  so  intimately  that  I  rely  a  great 
deal  on  your  judgment." 

"Well,  Mrs.  Poole,  if  you  must  know  the  truth, 
I  do  not  like  Doctor  Parmalee  at  all.  He  may  be  a 
good  enough  doctor — at  least  I  hope  he  is — but  he 
is  not  the  kind  of  man  that  I  would  care  to  associate 


Three  Against  One  231 

with.  Not  that  he  has  any  particularly  bad  habits. 
He  simply  isn't  my  type  of  man." 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  you  say  that.  You  see, 
he  has  been  taking  Margy  around  quite  a  good  deal. 
So  much  so,  in  fact,  that  folks  are  beginning  to  talk 
about  them." 

"Yes,  I've  heard  a  little  about  that." 

"How  far  the  matter  has  gone,  I  do  not  exactly 
know,  because  Margaret  has  not  confided  in  me 
lately  as  much  as  she  used  to — why,  I  don't  know." 
And  then,  as  Ross  made  no  comment  on  this,  the 
lady  continued  in  a  whisper.  "One  of  my  friends 
told  me  the  other  day  that  Doctor  Parmalee  had  in- 
timated that  he  was  going  to  propose  to  Margy. 
I  didn't  know  whether  I  liked  it  or  not,  and  now, 
from  what  you  say  about  him,  I  am  afraid  I  do  not." 

"Well,  if  he  proposes  to  Margy,  it  will  be  up  to 
her  as  to  what  she  does,"  answered  the  young  con- 
tractor. "Just  the  same,  I'd  be  sorry  to  see  her 
accept  him,"  and  that  was  all  he  would  say  on  the 
subject.  Yet  he  passed  a  sleepless  night  thinking 
about  it 


CHAPTER  XXI 

DR.    FARM  ALEE    SPEAKS 

THE  orphan  asylum  concert  at  Finchville  was  to 
be  an  affair  of  unusual  importance.  Several  singers 
and  entertainers  from  Boston  were  to  be  present, 
and  Margaret  felt  that  she  must  do  her  best  on  this 
occasion. 

"It's  a  pity  that  you're  not  going  along,"  she  told 
her  mother,  on  departing  with  Doctor  Parmalee. 

"I'm  afraid  you  are  asking  a  little  too  much  of  a 
person  of  my  age,"  returned  Mrs.  Poole,  with  a 
faint  smile.  "If  it  was  only  one  or  two  concerts, 
I  shouldn't  mind  it;  but  I  cannot  be  traveling  all 
over  the  country  as  if  I  were  a  singer  or  an  actress 
myself." 

Margaret  had  a  new  gown  and  a  new  hat,  and 
even  when  wrapped  up  in  a  veil  and  a  long  dust  coat, 
she  looked  very  bewitching  as  she  seated  herself 
beside  the  young  physician.  Parmalee  himself  was 
arrayed  in  his  best  under  his  duster  and  wore  a  rose 
in  his  buttonhole. 

"It's  certainly  a  shame  that  all  the  folks  in  this 
town  can't  hear  you  sing,"  remarked  the  doctor, 
as  they  bowled  along  the  road  leading  to  Finchville. 

232 


Dr.  Parmalee  Speaks  233 

The  regular  highway  between  dressing  and  the 
other  town  was  still  closed  for  repairs,  and  the 
doctor  proposed  taking  an  even  longer  detour  than 
Ross  had  assayed  during  his  fateful  drive  with 
Ethel  By  with — a  drive  along  the  edge  of  the  river, 
that  drive  which  had  come  to  the  young  contractor's 
mind  when  Mrs.  Poole  mentioned  the  fact  that  her 
daughter  had  gone  off  with  the  doctor. 

The  young  physician  had  been  looking  forward 
to  this  ride  ever  since  he  had  made  the  engagement 
with  the  girl.  Mentally,  matters  had  reached  a 
crisis  with  him,  and  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  had  better  propose  to  Margaret  at  the  first 
available  opportunity.  He  had  learned  in  a  round- 
about way  only  a  few  days  before  that  Margaret 
had  been  instrumental  in  having  Cole  let  out  on 
bail  while  Ross  lay  sick,  and  this  had  worried  him 
a  good  deal. 

"Maybe  she  thinks  more  of  Goodwin  than  I  sus- 
pected," the  doctor  told  himself ;  "and  if  that  is  so, 
the  sooner  I  get  busy  the  better." 

As  the  automobile  bowled  along  the  highway, 
the  two  young  people  spoke  of  a  number  of  things, 
but  presently  the  physician  drew  the  conversation 
around  to  Jennie  Martinson  and  Ethel  Bywith. 

"It's  wonderful  how  those  two  girls  have  wound 
around  Goodwin,"  was  his  comment. 


234       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Wound  around?  What  do  you  mean  by  that, 
Paul?"  she  questioned,  looking  straight  ahead  as 
she  spoke. 

"Oh,  I  mean  the  way  they  are  using  him  for  a 
good  thing,"  he  returned.  "Every  time  either  of 
them  wants  a  ride,  she  always  manages  to  get 
Goodwin  to  give  it  to  her.  Either  they  are  very 
much  stuck  on  him,  or  else  he  is  stuck  on  them." 

"What  a  way  to  talk !"  Margaret  exclaimed,  and 
her  face  showed  that  she  was  not  at  all  pleased. 
"Perhaps  you're  a  little  bit  jealous,  Paul, — because 
those  young  ladies  won't  go  out  with  you,"  she 
added  slyly. 

"Humph!  they  can't  go  out  with  me  unless  I  ask 
them,  can  they?" 

"You  wouldn't  want  to  ask  them  unless  you  were 
pretty  sure  they  would  go,  would  you?"  she  retorted. 

"I'm  not  asking  anybody  to  go  out  with  me  but 
you,  Margy."  He  gazed  at  her  in  a  manner  that 
brought  a  sudden  blush  to  her  cheeks.  "If  I  can 
have  you  along,  I  don't  want  anybody  else.  Ross 
Goodwin  is  welcome  to  every  other  girl  in  Durham 
— and  the  whole  state,  for  that  matter." 

"How  ridiculous  you  are,  Paul!"  she  cried,  not 
knowing  what  else  to  say. 

"I'm  not  ridiculous,  Margy,  I'm  in  dead  earnest." 
He  took  one  hand  from  the  steering  wheel  and 


Dr.  Parmalee  Speaks  235 

caught  her  by  the  arm,  but  she  drew  away  quickly. 

"See  what  a  funny  little  boat  on  the  river!"  she 
exclaimed,  changing  the  subject.  "I  never  saw  a 
boat  like  that  before.  What  is  it,  Paul?" 

"I  guess  it's  nothing  but  a  mud  scow,"  he  an- 
swered, with  just  a  glance  in  the  direction  she  in- 
dicated. 

"Be  careful  how  you  are  driving!''  she  cried. 
"The  river  is  very  lovely,  but  we  don't  want  to  go 
into  it,"  for  he  had  for  the  instant  allowed  the 
wheel  to  go  its  own  way  and  had  run  close  to  the 
bushes  lining  the  stream. 

"Don't  be  alarmed,  I  know  how  to  run  this  car," 
he  reassured  her.  "I  could  travel  this  road  in  per- 
fect safety  the  darkest  night  there  ever  was." 

"I  suppose  you  do  have  to  get  out  quite  often  in 
the  night,  Paul." 

"More  than  I  want  to.  I  don't  relish  leaving  a 
comfortable  bed  to  go  two  or  three  miles  out  of 
town,  especially  on  a  night  when  it  is  raining." 

The  mention  of  being  out  in  an  automobile  in  the 
rain  put  Margaret  in  mind  of  the  time  she  had  met 
Ross  and  Ethel  Bywith  in  the  storm,  and  for  the 
moment  her  face  clouded. 

"What's  the  matter,  Margy?"  questioned  her 
companion,  glancing  at  her  keenly.  "I  didn't  say 
anything  wrong,  did  I?" 


236      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"Oh,  no,  Paul.     I  was  just  thinking." 

"Can't  you  just  think  a  little  about  me?" 

"Why,  I  do— a  whole  lot." 

"Then  why  won't  you  listen  to  me  when  I've  got 
something  important  to  say?" 

"I  have  been  listening." 

"Yes,  but  you  put  me  off." 

"I  didn't  know  it." 

"You  asked  about  that  dinky  mud  scow " 

"But  I  like  to  know  about  the  different  kinds  of 
boats,  even  if  they  are  mud  scows,"  she  protested, 
and  then,  as  she  saw  him  trying  to  become  serious 
again,  she  went  on  quickly;  "Oh,  I  forgot  some- 
thing!" 

"Forgot  something?  Do  you  mean  we'll  have 
to  go  back?"  and  his  face  fell. 

"Oh,  no,  not  that!  I  only  meant  about  one  of 
those  songs  I  am  to  sing  at  the  concert.  I  am  not 
altogether  sure  of  the  words  of  the  second  verse, 
and  I  promised  myself  that  I  would  learn  them 
while  I  was  on  this  ride.  You  won't  mind  if  I 
look  the  music  over,  will  you?" 

"Certainly  not,"  he  answered,  but  his  tone  did 
not  indicate  any  particular  pleasure. 

Margaret  picked  up  her  music  portfolio  and 
brought  forth  the  song  in  question.  Then,  in  a 
clear  voice,  she  read  the  verses  over  to  him.  They 


Dr.  Parmalee  Speaks  237 

were  about  a  brown  thrush  singing  from  the  top 
of  a  hedge. 

"Aren't  they  poetic,  Paul?  Can't  you  just  see 
that  dear  little  bird  singing  as  if  to  split  his  throat? 
Oh,  if  I  could  only  sing  like  that !" 

"You  sing  better  than  any  thrush,  Margy." 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  a  biased  critic,  Paul,"  she 
responded,  yet  the  compliment  pleased  her. 

They  soon  passed  around  Cressing,  and  then  con- 
tinued on  the  river  road  leading  up  into  Finchville. 
The  girl  easily  divined  that  the  doctor  had  some- 
thing unusual  on  his  mind,  and  did  her  best  to  talk 
of  ordinary  things.  But  Parmalee  could  not  be 
thrust  aside. 

"You've  just  got  to  listen  to  me,  Margy,"  he 
said  finally,  when  they  were  on  a  particularly  lonely 
stretch  of  the  road.  And  now  he  turned  off  the 
power  and  allowed  the  machine  to  come  to  a  stand- 
still. 

"Oh,  we  mustn't  stop  here,  Paul!"  she  cried 
"I  don't  want  to  be  late  for  that  concert." 

"Oh,  we've  got  an  hour  to  spare." 

"Oh,  no — only  fifty  minutes,"  she  answered, 
glancing  at  her  wrist  watch. 

"They  never  begin  those  concerts  on  time,  you 
know  that.  Come  now,  won't  you  please  listen  to 
me?"  he  pleaded. 


238       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"I've  been  listening  all  along,  and  I  must  get  to 
that  concert." 

"You've  got  to  listen!"  he  cried,  and  suddenly 
threw  one  arm  around  her  shoulder.  "You've  just 
got  to  listen  to  me,  Margy!"  and  then  he  attempted 
to  draw  her  closer. 

For  one  brief  instant  Margaret  thought  she  would 
let  him  go  on,  but  then  another  feeling  surged  over 
her,  and  she  pushed  him  gently  but  firmly  away. 

"Now,  you  mustn't  act  like  that,  Paul,  if  you  ex- 
pect me  to  ride  with  you,"  she  said.  "Hurry  up, 
I  don't  want  to  be  late ;  and  I  want  to  meet  some  of 
the  folks  there  before  the  concert  begins." 

"You're  not  treating  me  fairly,"  he  grumbled. 
"You  know  how  much  I  think  of  you.  Why  won't 
you  be  reasonable  and  listen  to  me?  You  know 
I  think  you  are  the  finest  girl  in  the  world,  and  I 
want  you  to  marry  me." 

It  was  out  at  last,  and  as  he  uttered  the  words, 
the  young  physician  caught  her  almost  fiercely  by 
the  arm  and  the  shoulder.  Margaret  turned  her 
face  from  him. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  talk  that  way,  Paul.  I  don't 
want  to  hear  it — at  least — not  now."  She  did  not 
know  how  to  proceed. 

"Then  you  will  listen  to  me  some  time?"  he 
pleaded  eagerly. 


Dr.  Parmalee  Speaks  239 

"I  won't  make  any  promises.  Now  please  let  go 
of  me  and  start  up  the  machine.  If  you  don't,  I'll 
jump  out  and  walk  to  Finchville,"  and  she  made  a 
movement  as  if  to  carry  out  that  purpose. 

"Oh,  you  haven't  got  to  do  anything  like  that, 
Margy,"  he  cried,  as  he  released  her.  "Just  the 
same,  I  want  you  to  remember  what  I  said,  for  I 
meant  every  word  of  it;"  and  then,  as  she  made  no 
reply,  he  started  up  the  motor  once  more,  and  the 
car  proceeded  on  its  way. 

Margaret  was  much  upset ;  more  so  than  she  was 
willing  to  confess  even  to  herself.  She  had  felt 
for  a  long  time  that  Parmalee  intended  to  r>roT>cn"/ 
and  she  had  used  various  means  to  keep  him  at  a 
distance.  Not  that  he  was  altogether  distasteful  to 
her — if  he  had  been  that  she  would  not  have  gone 
out  with  him.  Outside  of  the  disparaging  remarks 
that  he  had  made  concerning  Ross  and  the  two 
trained  nurses,  the  young  physician  had  acted  his 
very  best  when  in  her  presence,  and  had  been  so 
kind  and  considerate  in  so  many  things  that  she 
could  not  help  but  feel  under  obligations  to  him. 

She  was  glad  when  the  hall  where  the  concert 
was  to  take  place  was  reached,  and  doubly  glad  to 
be  welcomed  by  a  number  of  folks  with  whom  she 
was  well  acquainted. 

"But  I've  got  to  ride  back  with  him  after  the 


240      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

concert  is  over,"  she  told  herself.  "Oh,  dear,  I 
wish  that  didn't  have  to  be.  He'll  surely  propose 
again." 

Fortunately  for  the  girl,  she  was  not  called  on 
to  sing  until  several  numbers  of  the  program  had 
been  rendered,  and  this  gave  her  a  chance  to  pull 
herself  together,  and,  in  consequence,  when  the  time 
came  to  appear  before  the  audience  she  was  fairly 
calm  and  collected.  For  the  time  being  she  tried 
to  dismiss  Parmalee  from  her  thoughts  and  give 
her  entire  attention  to  her  singing. 

As  was  usual,  she  was  well  applauded,  and  re- 
ceived several  bouquets  of  flowers,  including  one 
purchased  for  her  by  the  young  physician. 

"Oh,  it  was  lovely — perfectly  lovely,  Margy!" 
cried  a  young  woman,  as  she  made  her  way  to  the 
singer's  side  after  the  concert  was  over.  "I  de- 
clare, I  never  thought  it  was  in  you.  You  ought  to 
be  in  grand  opera." 

"It's  splendid  of  you  to  say  that,  Laura,"  an- 
swered Margaret,  as  she  embraced  her  old  friend, 
Mrs.  Frederick  Feversham.  "I  don't  know  that  I 
deserve  all  the  compliments  I've  been  receiving." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  do — every  one !"  Mrs.  Feversham, 
who  had  been  married  but  two  years,  suddenly  drew 
Margaret  to  one  side.  "I  see  Doctor  Parmalee  is 
very  attentive  to  you,"  she  whispered. 


Dr.  Parmalee  Speaks  241 

"Laura,  do  you  want  to  do  me  a  favor  ?"  returned 
Margaret  quickly,  struck  by  a  sudden  idea. 

"Anything  you  say,  dear." 

"Then  give  me  a  very  pressing  invitation  to  stay 
all  night  with  you,"  answered  Margaret,  in  a  low 
voice. 

Mrs.  Feversham  looked  at  her  wonderingly  for 
a  moment. 

"Oh,  do!"  went  on  the  young  singer.  "Perhaps 
.  I'll  explain  to  you  later,  but,  anyway,  please  give 
me  the  invitation  and  insist — mind  you,  insist — on 
my  accepting  it." 

The  girl  had  not  time  to  say  more  on  the  subject, 
for  Doctor  Parmalee  was  approaching.  He  had 
met  Mrs.  Feversham  before,  and  now  the  two  shook 
hands. 

"I  want  Margy  to  stay  with  me  all  night,"  said 
the  married  lady  sweetly.  "In  fact,  I  would  like  it 
very  much  if  she  would  stay  with  me  several  days," 
she  added  suddenly.  "You  see,  Fred  and  I  and 
several  others  are  going  up  to  Cedar  Lake  to  attend 
the  carnival  there,  and  I'd  like  very  much  to  have 
Margy  go  along." 

"Well,  now,"  began  the  doctor  in  dismay,  "you 
see " 

"Oh,  how  perfectly  grand  of  you  to  ask  me  to 
attend  that  carnival,"  burst  out  Margaret.  "It's 


242       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

the  one  given  by  the  Winona  Boat  Club,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes.  Fred,  you  know,  is  one  of  the  charter 
members  of  the  club.  He  will  have  his  motor  boat, 
the  Firefly,  up  there  in  one  of  the  races." 

"Oh,  I  would  like  to  see  that!"  went  on  Mar- 
garet ecstatically.  "I  just  dote  on  boat  races!" 
She  turned  and  looked  rather  contritely  at  the  young 
physician.  "You  won't  mind  very  much,  Paul,  if 
I  accept  the  invitation  and  stay  here,  will  you?" 

"Sure,  I'll  mind,  when  I  thought  I  was  going  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  home  to-night," 
he  answered,  with  a  longing  look  at  her.  "But  it's 
all  right  I  suppose,"  he  added  hastily,  not  to  dis- 
please her.  "I  would  go  up  to  that  carnival  myself, 
only  I've  got  several  patients  who  can't  be  left  alone 
that  long." 

"If  you  will,  you  might  do  me  a  favor,"  pursued 
Margaret.  "When  you  get  back  to  Durham  will 
you  telephone  to  my  mother  that  I  am  going  to 
stay  with  Mrs.  Feversham  for  several  days?  Tell 
her  not  to  worry — that  I  am  sure  Mrs.  Feversham 
will  take  good  care  of  me." 

"Yes,  and  tell  her  too,  Doctor,  that  she  needn't 
worry  over  Margaret's  wardrobe.  I've  got  all  the 
clothing  she'll  want,  and  she  knows  she'll  be  welcome 
to  use  it." 

And  so  it  came  about  that,  instead  of  returning  to 


Dr.  Parmalee  Speaks  243 

Durham  in  the  company  of  Doctor  Parmalee,  Mar- 
garet went  to  Cedar  Lake  wtih  the  Fevershams, 
there  to  be  brought  face  to  face  with  the  most 
thrilling  experience  of  her  existence. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A  DASTARDLY  PLOT 

Two  days  after  his  conversation  with  Mrs.  Poole, 
Ross  received  a  visit  from  Mike  Breen,  who  came 
in  his  own  interest  and  in  the  interest  of  Ike 
Shacker.  The  young  contractor  was  just  finishing 
breakfast  when  the  servant  announced  the  visitor. 

"I'm  after  thinkin'  you  know  what  I  came  about," 
began  Breen,  as  Ross  entered  the  library,  where  the 
visitor  was  stalking  about,  too  impatient  to  sit 
down.  "It's  about  thim  notices  you  posted  around 
our  work,  and  about  the  things  you're  after  say  in' 
about  me  in  town." 

"What  do  you  want  to  know?"  asked  Ross, 
quietly. 

"I  want  to  know  what  you  mean  by  such  under- 
handed wurruk,  that's  what  I  want  to  know!" 
shouted  Breen,  red  in  the  face  with  suppressed  rage. 
"You're  doin'  yer  best  to  take  our  gangs  away  from 
us;  ye  needn't  deny  it." 

"I  haven't  denied  it,  Breen.  And  you  needn't 
shout  as  if  I  was  half  deaf,"  added  Ross,  throwing 
himself  into  an  easy-chair. 

"It's  a  dirty  shame,  the  way  yer  actin'.  Ye " 

244 


A  Dastardly  Plot  245 

"Hold  on,  now,  Breen.  If  you  want  to  talk  to 
me  you've  got  to  be  civil." 

"Phat  did  yez  do  it  fer?  Ye  can't  be  after  payin' 
out  that  wages  an'  make  money."  Breen's  broad 
brogue  was  beginning  to  assert  itself. 

"That  is  my  affair,  Breen.  Certainly  you  wouldn't 
be  sorry  to  see  me  lose  money  on  the  railroad  con- 
tract." 

"It's  dishonest  to  take  our  men  in  that  fashion." 

"No  more  so  than  it  was  for  you  and  Shacker  to 
scoop  in  the  men  I  advertised  for.  Remember,  I 
didn't  start  this  fight.  I  was  minding  my  own 
business  when  you  hired  O'Mara  to  interfere  with 
me." 

"It  ain't  so!" 

"It  is  so,  and  some  day,  perhaps,  I'll  prove  it. 
And  not  only  that — you've  done  all  you  possibly 
could  to  make  me  fall  down  on  this  contract.  And 
I  know  the  reason.  You  want  to  put  me  out  of  the 
field  and  scoop  in  those  other  big  railroad  contracts 
that  are  to  be  given  out  next  year.  But  you  can't 
put  me  out  or  down  me.  I  am  here  to  stay,  and 
now  I  mean  to  fight  you  tooth  and  nail,  first,  last 
and  all  the  time.  I'll  give  you  back  as  good  as  you 
send,  and  if  you  don't  leave  me  alone  I'll  give  it 
back  to  you  with  interest." 

"But  look  here.    We  want " 


246      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"I  don't  care  what  you  want,  and  I  won't  argue 
with  you.  I've  told  you  what  stand  I  propose  to 
take  in  this  matter,  and  that  is  the  end  of  it.  If 
you  keep  on,  I'll  do  my  best  to  put  you  and 
Shacker  and  O'Mara  in  State's  prison  before  I 
let  up  on  you.  Now,  you've  heard  what  I  have 
to  say;  and  now,  let  me  bid  you  good-morning." 

Ross  stepped  to  the  door  and  held  it  open.  Breen 
stared  at  him  in  rage,  and  his  hands  twitched  as  if 
he  wanted  to  catch  the  young  contractor  by  the 
throat. 

"All  right!  All  right!"  he  shouted,  hoarsely. 
"Have  yer  say!  But  yer  a  big  fool  whin  ye  talk 
o'  State's  prison  to  Mike  Breen.  I've  met  laddy- 
bucks  like  you  before,  an'  downed  'em,  too !  I  might 
have  been  yer  frind " 

"I'd  feel  safer  to  have  you  for  an  enemy,"  came 
from  Ross,  quickly. 

"Oh,  talk  big,  if  ye  want  to!  Wind  don't  cost 
nuthin' !  But  remimber,  th'  play  ain't  over  till  the 
curtain  goes  down  on  th'  last  act,  begob!"  And, 
with  this  parting  shot,  Breen  fled  from  the  house. 

He  was  a  bitterly  disappointed  man,  for  he  had 
fully  expected  to  intimidate  Ross.  When  he  realized 
how  completely  he  had  failed  in  his  object,  his  face 
became  a  study  in  low  cunning  and  treachery. 

"He  thinks  we  can't  down  him,  eh?"  he  hissed, 


A  Dastardly  Plot  247 

between  his  set  teeth.  "Oi'll  show  him — yes,  Oi 
will !  We  ain't  played  our  last  card  yit !  Shacker's 
plan  is  all  roight,  an'  if  it  comes  to  the  worst,  we 
can  be  after  shiftin'  the  blame  on  O'Mara's  shoul- 
ders !  Oi'll  git  over  to  Finchville  this  very  mornin' 
an'  talk  the  matter  over  wid  Ike,  an'  then  we  can 
see  Flood  and  borrow  or  steal  a  switch  key." 

Half  an  hour  later  saw  Breen  on  his  way  to  the 
place  mentioned,  a  pretty  town  set  between  green 
hills,  and  with  a  small  river  flowing  through  its 
center.  At  the  upper  end  was  Cedar  Lake,  a  long, 
picturesque  sheet  of  water.  To  the  whole  neighbor- 
hood there  was  but  one  drawback — the  dynamite 
factory  located  about  half  a  mile  beyond  the  lake 
shore. 

Arriving  at  Finchville,  Breen  made  his  way  to  a 
saloon  often  frequented  by  himself  and  his  cronies. 

"I'm  after  lookin'  fur  Shacker,"  he  said  to  the 
saloon  keeper,  who  was  resting  comfortably  in  an 
easy-chair,  smoking  a  clay  pipe. 

"Shacker  was  here  early  this  morning,"  responded 
the  saloon  man.  "I  don't  know  where  he  went." 

"Shacker  went  up  Cedar  Lake,"  broke  in  the  bar- 
keeper. "He  and  O'Mara  went  together." 

"Did  they  say  where  they  was  after  a-goin'?" 

"Yes.  They  were  going  up  to  the  dynamite  fac- 
tory to  see  about  some  of  the  stuff  for  their  work. 


248       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

Shacker  said  it  was  kind  o'  hard  to  get  the  dyna- 
mite he  wanted  these  days." 

"Maybe  he  ain't  paid  his  bills  quite  as  quick  as 
he  might,"  laughed  Breen.  "You  know,  Ike  is  a 
good  feller  fur  holdin'  on  to  his  money." 

"Well,  there  are  others,"  came  from  the  saloon 
keeper  significantly.  He  remembered  that  there 
was  quite  a  charge  on  the  slate  against  Breen. 

"Don't  you  worry,  Mike,  you'll  git  all  that's 
comin'  to  you  as  soon  as  we  finish  our  contracts," 
returned  Breen. 

The  fellow  knew  the  way  up  the  lake,  and,  hiring 
a  light  rowboat,  set  out  in  search  of  his  friends. 
At  the  boat  landing  he  learned  that  Shacker  and 
O'Mara  had  gone  up  to  the  dynamite  factory  by 
way  of  the  footpath  which  ran  part  way  along  the 
lake  shore. 

Breen  was  half  way  up  the  lake  when  he  caught 
sight  of  the  others  coming  toward  him,  they  having 
evidently  finished  their  errand  to  the  dynamite  fac- 
tory. He  rowed  in  as  close  as  the  rocky  shore 
line  permitted. 

"Hi,  you!"  he  called  out,  and  waved  his  hand 
to  them. 

"Why,  it's  Mike !"  exclaimed  Shacker  in  surprise. 
"I  wonder  what  brought  him  up  here  in  that  boat." 

"We'll  soon  find  out,"  returned  O'Mara,  and  then 


A  Dastardly  Plot  249 

he  and  Shacker  hurried  down  to  the  water's  edge. 

When  Breen  came  ashore  and  made  fast  his  boat, 
the  others  saw  that  he  was  decidedly  angry.  He 
did  not  mince  matters,  but  came  directly  to  the 
point. 

"It's  about  Ross  Goodwin  that  I  want  to  see  ye !" 
he  stormed. 

"What  has  Goodwin  done  now?"  demanded 
Shacker. 

"He's  goin'  to  make  it  hot  fur  us,  that's  what 
he's  goin'  to  do!"  cried  Breen,  and  then  told  how 
Ross  had  defined  all  of  them  to  do  their  worst,  and 
how  the  young  contractor  had  stated  that  he  would 
like  nothing  better  than  to  put  them  all  in  prison. 

"What's  that  you  say?"  shrieked  Shacker.  "Put 
me  in  prison?  I'd  like  to  see  him  do  it!" 

"He's  getting  altogether  too  fresh!"  added 
O'Mara.  "The  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  set  to 
work  and  clip  his  wings." 

"Well,  that's  why  I  came  up  here  in  sech  a  hurry," 
said  Breen.  "I  don't  think  we  ought  to  lose  any 
time.  The  thing  of  it  is — what  can  we  do  that  will 
be  most  effective?" 

"Sit  down  here  and  we'll  talk  it  over,"  suggested 
Shacker,  and  thereupon  the  three  proceeded  to  make 
themselves  comfortable  on  some  rocks  which  were 
screened  by  the  trees  and  bushes  lining  the  lake 


250      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

shore.  An  animated  conversation  lasting  half  an 
hour  followed. 

"The  dynamite  will  do  the  work  well,"  said 
Shacker.  "It  may  cost  a  Dago  or  two  his  life, 
but- 

"What  do  we  care  for  the  dirty  Dagoes  ?"  put  in 
O'Mara.  "If  we  can  down  Ross  Goodwin,  and  ruin 
his  work,  I'll  not  be  after  mindin'  the  cost." 

"Oi  knew  ye'd  be  after  sayin'  that,"  put  in  Breen. 
And  then  they  went  into  some  details,  which  took 
them  another  half  hour  to  discuss. 

After  all  had  entered  the  boat  and  moved  away 
from  the  spot,  silence  reigned  supreme  for  fully  a 
minute.  Then  from  out  of  the  bushes  that  con- 
cealed a  canoe  lying  in  a  nearby  cove,  appeared  first 
the  face  and  then  the  form  of  a  girl,  pale  and  ter- 
rified. 

It  was  Margaret  Poole. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
MARGARET'S  DECISION 

MRS.  FEVERSHAM  did  her  best  to  make  Margaret 
feel  at  ease  during  the  stay  at  Finchville  and  on  the 
trip  up  Cedar  Lake.  With  womanly  intuition  she 
realized  that  something  unusual  had  occurred  be- 
tween her  friend  and  the  young  doctor,  but  she 
was  polite  enough  not  to  mention  the  matter. 

The  Fevershams  had  a  small  bungalow  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  long  lake,  and  there  the  whole 
party  proceeded  to  make  themselves  at  home.  This 
was  on  the  day  after  the  Orphan  Asylum  concert, 
and  the  water  carnival  was  to  take  place  starting 
in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 

Margaret  felt  that  she  must  be  alone  to  do  some 
thinking,  and  so  asked  permission  to  take  a  canoe 
and  paddle  around  the  lake  wherever  she  might 
care  to  go. 

"I  wish  Paul  hadn't  proposed — at  least  not  yet," 
she  said  to  herself,  as  she  guided  her  canoe  in  and 
out  of  the  various  nooks  along  the  picturesque  lake 
shore.  "Now  I  suppose  we  can't  be  quite  as  good 
friends  as  before.  If  I  give  him  half  a  chance,  he'll 
be  sure  to  propose  again." 

251 


252      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

Coming  to  a  particularly  pretty  spot  in  the  shore 
line,  she  sent  her  light  canoe  into  a  little  cove  where 
the  cedars  lining  the  lake  almost  hid  her  from  view. 
In  this  little  nook  she  sank  back  on  the  cushions  of 
the  craft  and  gave  herself  up  to  her  reflections. 

As  she  lay  there,  she  wondered  if  she  had  done 
altogether  right.  Parmalee  had  been  kind  to  her 
in  many  ways,  and  he  was  gradually  building  up  a 
fairly  good  practice.  She  was  quite  sure  she  did 
not  love  him,  but  she  had  heard  some  society  ladies 
say  more  than  once  that  all  marriages  in  this  life 
were  not  based  merely  on  that  feeling. 

"Maybe  I  might  get  to  love  him  if  I  knew  him 
better,"  she  mused.  "I  suppose  some  girls  would 
think  him  quite  a  catch.  His  folks  are  well  known 
and  rich,  and  the  Parmalees  have  always  moved  in 
the  very  best  of  society." 

Presently  her  mind  drifted  to  the  quarrel  that  the 
doctor  and  Ross  had  had  over  the  tenements  of  the 
laboring  men,  and  then  settled  upon  the  young 
contractor  and  what  he  was  trying  to  do.  It  had 
hurt  her  greatly  to  see  him  follow  in  the  footsteps 
of  his  uncle  and  thus  throw  away,  as  she  thought, 
the  benefits  that  might  have  been  derived  from  his 
college  education. 

"I  don't  believe  his  four  years  at  Yale  are  going 
to  help  him  very  much  in  that  contracting  business," 


Margaret's  Decision  253 

she  told  herself  dismally.  "I  guess  all  the  ordinary 
contractor  needs  is  a  knowledge  of  the  three  R's 
and  the  will-power  to  make  his  men  do  their  work." 

But  she  felt  compelled  to  admire  his  pluck,  and 
her  heart  warmed  towards  him  as  she  realized  what 
he  had  had  to  contend  with  from  the  very  start. 
She  knew  he  had  rivals  who  were  old  and  expe- 
rienced in  the  business,  and  who  stood  ready  to 
ruin  him  if  they  could.  She  wondered  if  he  would 
win  out  on  his  contract,  and  what  he  would  do  next. 

Lying  there  like  one  in  a  dream,  she  presently 
heard  a  shout  from  Breen;  and,  before  she  could 
retreat,  she  heard  the  three  men  talking  together. 
Then  she  heard  Ross'  name  mentioned,  and  instantly 
she  became  all  attention.  These  were  his  enemies, 
and  she  must  learn  every  word  of  their  plans. 

When  they  were  gone,  she  felt  so  weak  she  could 
scarcely  raise  herself  on  the  seat  of  the  canoe. 
What  was  this  she  had  heard?  The  dynamite  for 
the  railroad  work  was  on  a  side  track  at  Durham, 
and  they  were  going  to  send  it  forward  without 
warning,  on  the  single  track  that  had  been  laid  as 
far  as  the  rocky  cliff.  The  jar  of  the  wreck  would 
set  off  the  stuff,  and  track,  shanty,  drilling  machin- 
ery, and  perhaps  many  workmen,  would  be  blown 

sky-high!  And  if  Ross  was  with  that  gang 

The  thought  made  her  shiver  as  with  a  chill. 


254      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"They  are  going  to  try  to  kill  him !"  she  gasped 
hoarsely.  "To  kill  him!  To  kill  Ross!" 

She  must  give  warning !  She  must  stop  this  pro- 
posed destruction  of  life  and  property!  In  her 
imagination,  she  could  see  Ross  in  his  working 
clothes,  laboring  among  his  men  at  the  cliff,  un- 
conscious of  the  danger  swooping  down  upon  him. 
Ross,  her  chum  of  childhood  days ! 

"They  shan't  do  it!  They  shan't  do  it!"  she 
cried  over  and  over  again,  and  clenched  her  hands. 
In  that  instant  she  realized  the  truth — that  she 
loved  him  better  than  anybody  else  in  the  whole 
world.  Oh,  why  could  she  not  fly  to  him  on  the 
instant  and  tell  him  of  what  his  enemies  proposed 
to  do? 

In  feverish  haste  she  took  up  her  paddle,  and  sent 
the  frail  canoe  out  upon  the  broad  bosom  of  the 
lake.  She  began  to  paddle  swiftly,  and  thus  started 
back  towards  the  Feversham  bungalow. 

"If  I  only  had  a  motor  boat !"  she  groaned,  as  she 
realized  the  slow  progress  she  was  making.  She 
was  not  skillful  at  handling  the  paddle,  and  soon  her 
exertions  in  the  bright  sunshine  began  to  tell  upon 
her,  and  the  glare  on  the  water  made  her  head  ache. 
But  she  gave  herself  no  pause,  keeping  on  steadily 
until  at  last  the  boat-landing  was  reached. 

Mrs.  Feversham  was  out,  having  gone  up  to  the 


Margaret's  Decision  255 

head  of  the  lake  with  her  husband  to  see  how  the 
preparations  for  the  water  carnival  were  progress- 
ing. Only  a  maid  servant  and  a  hired  man  were 
about  the  bungalow,  and  both  of  these  were  sur- 
prised to  see  her  returning  in  such  haste. 

"Henry,  have  you  a  good  saddle  horse  in  the 
stable  here?"  she  demanded.  "I  must  use  one — 
and  at  once."  There  were  no  good  roads  around 
that  vicinity  of  the  lake,  and  most  of  the  traveling 
done  there  was  either  on  foot  or  by  boat  or  horse- 
back. 

"Yes,  Miss  Margaret,  we've  two  saddle  horses 
left  here,"  answered  the  hired  man,  and  then  he 
added :  "You  seem  to  be  terribly  upset — is  any- 
thing wrong?  If  I  can  help  you " 

"I  don't  think  you  can  help,  Henry,  excepting 
to  saddle  the  best  horse  you've  got  at  once.  I  must 
go  on  an  errand  without  delay,"  and  Margaret 
rushed  into  the  house  to  prepare  for  her  journey. 

"If  you  please,  Miss,"  said  the  hired  man,  fol- 
lowing her  into  the  living-room  of  the  bungalow, 
"We've  got  Nelson  here.  The  missus  used  to  ride 
him,  but  he  got  kind  o'  fiery  and  Mr.  Feversham 
said " 

"Saddle  Nelson  at  once,  Henry." 

"But  he  is  fiery,  Miss  Margaret,  and 

"I  dare  say  I  can  manage  him.     I've  been  used 


256       Making  Good  With  Margaret 

to  horseback  riding  all  my  life.  And  don't  waste 
any  time — I'm  in  a  tremendous  hurry." 

She  ran  to  the  house  and  into  the  dressing  room 
of  her  friend.  Now  was  no  time  to  stand  on  cere- 
mony, and  soon  she  had  donned  a  riding  habit  and 
hat  belonging  to  Mrs.  Feversham.  Then  she  came 
out  again,  just  as  Henry  led  Nelson  from  the  barn. 

"Tell  Mrs.  Feversham  I  had  to  go,  and  that  I'll 
tell  her  all  about  it  when  I  see  her  again,"  she  said, 
and  leaped  gracefully  into  the  saddle.  In  another 
second  she  was  off,  through  the  lane  of  cedars  and 
out  on  the  road  leading  to  Durham. 

What  the  coachman  had  said  concerning  the 
horse  was  true.  Nelson  had  not  been  used  for  a 
saddle  horse  for  some  months,  and  he  did  all  in  his 
power  to  show  his  resentment  at  being  used  as  such. 
He  shook  himself  freely,  and  then  set  off  at  a  speed 
that  would  have  alarmed  any  ordinary  rider. 

But  at  present  this  was  just  what  Margaret  want- 
ed. She  did  not  know  how  soon  Breen  and  the 
others  would  act,  but  she  knew  it  would  be  that 
very  afternoon.  It  was  already  after  twelve  and  the 
place  where  Ross  and  his  men  were  working  was 
a  good  twenty  to  twenty-five  miles  distant.  She 
knew  that  Breen  and  the  others  would  go  to  Dur- 
ham on  the  noon  freight,  getting  aboard  at  the 
water  tower ;  but  f of  her  there  was  no  way  to  cover 


Margaret's  Decision  257 

the  distance  excepting  that  which  she  had  chosen, 
and  she  could  not  telegraph  to  the  cliff. 

For  several  miles  she  kept  to  the  highway  lead- 
ing to  Durham,  but  presently  she  reached  a  cross- 
roads, and  then  she  headed  Nelson  along  the  other 
road,  which  ran  midway  between  Durham  and 
dressing,  and  crossed  the  proposed  railroad  line 
half  a  mile  below  the  rocky  cliff. 

It  was  on  this  new  road  that  Nelson  showed  his 
mettle  and  his  disposition  to  unseat  anybody  who 
dared  to  mount  him.  He  began  to  balk  and  kick, 
and  tried  his  best  to  throw  her.  Failing  in  this,  he 
caught  the  bit  in  his  teeth  and  started  off  on  a  mad 
gallop  which  nothing  could  control.  He  took  the 
wrong  road,  and  half  a  mile  was  covered  ere  she 
could  get  him  again  down  to  a  canter  and  turn 
him  around. 

"I  may  be  too  late!"  she  gasped.  "Oh,  God, 
don't  let  me  be  too  late!  Please  don't  let  me  be 
too  late !" 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

WITH    NOT    A    MOMENT   TO    SPARE 

THE  precious  time  thus  lost  nearly  drove  the  girl 
crazy.  In  her  mind's  eye  she  could  see  the  dyna- 
mite car  swooping  down  upon  Ross,  and  killing  him 
and  all  those  around  him.  And  then  she  could  see 
herself  in  black,  and  mourning  that  she  had  never 
been  able  to  tell  him  how  much  she  loved  him — 
always  had  loved  him! 

On  and  on,  and  still  on,  over  the  dusty  road, 
in  the  glaring  heat  of  the  midsummer  sun.  She  had 
lost  her  hat  in  that  mad  rush  made  by  the  steed, 
and  now  her  hair  had  come  loose  and  was  floating 
out  in  a  silken  wave  behind  her.  A  strange  light 
glimmered  before  her  eyes,  and  she  often  had  to 
clutch  the  saddle  to  keep  herself  from  falling.  She 
knew  her  strength  was  leaving  her,  and  she  shut  her 
teeth  hard  in  a  vow  to  keep  up  as  long  as  was 
necessary. 

Two  miles  more!  Would  that  hot  and  feverish 
ride  never  come  to  an  end?  The  road,  now  rough 
and  uncertain,  seemed  to  waver  and  break  before 
her.  Nelson  was  covered  with  foam,  and  now  as 
docile  as  a  lamb,  and  she  had  to  whip  him  to  keep 
him  from  dropping  into  a  walk. 

258 


With  Not  a  Moment  to  Spare       259 

Only  a  mile  now,  and  the  roughest  of  the  road 
lay  before  her.  She  shaded  her  eyes  with  her  hand, 
and  at  a  distance  made  out  where  some  of  the 
grading  had  been  done.  But  no  workmen  were  in 
sight,  and  she  pressed  on  and  on,  straight  for  the 
cliff. 

Down  there,  under  the  shadow  of  that  beetling 
mass  of  stone,  Ross  was  hard  at  work,  directing 
what  drilling  should  be  done.  The  foreman  of  the 
drillers  was  there,  along  with  the  man  who  ran  the 
engine  used  for  the  work,  and  about  a  dozen  Italian 
laborers,  who  were  placing  the  rock  already  blasted 
out  on  two  flat  cars,  standing  on  a  temporary  siding. 
Ross  was  bathed  in  perspiration  and  dust,  and  was 
glad  enough  to  knock  off  for  a  few  moments  when 
he  saw  Cole  leap  from  an  approaching  hand  car  and 
come  forward  to  consult  him. 

"It's  about  that  bend  over  Leary's  Creek,"  said 
the  foreman,  drawing  a  blue  print  from  his  pocket. 
"It's  down  one  way  in  the  map,  and  another  way 
by  the  stakes,  and  Leary  claims  the  stakes  are  abso- 
lutely right." 

"Let  me  look  at  the  specifications  and  the  map," 
answered  Ross,  dashing  the  sweat  from  his  brow 
with  the  edge  of  his  finger.  "Phew !  but  it's  a  hot 
day,  Larry!" 

"That's  what,"  was  the  reply.     "Those  Hunga- 


260      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

rians  under  Lamp-post  are  bound  to  have  their  beer, 
too,  in  spite  of  my  orders." 

"We  can't  stop  drinking  entirely,  such  weather 
as  this."  Ross  was  bending  over  the  map.  "This 
seems  to  me " 

"By  the  jumping  jenny!"  burst  out  the  foreman, 
leaping  to  his  feet.  "Who's  that  on  horseback, 
tearing  over  the  rocks  yonder?" 

Ross  gave  a  look.  The  next  instant  map  and 
specifications  were  forgotten  and  thrown  at  his 
feet,  and  he  was  running  forward  to  meet  Margaret. 
She  saw  him  coming,  and  gave  a  short,  low  but 
glad  cry. 

"Oh,  Ross,  I  am  so — so  thankful!"  she  gasped. 
"I — I — was  afraid  I  would  be  too — too  late !"  The 
words  came  with  difficulty. 

"Too  late?  What  for?  Let  me  help  you  to  the 
ground.  Why,  your  horse  is  covered  with  foam! 
What  does  it  mean?" 

"It  means  that — that "  He  held  out  his  arms, 

and  she  dropped,  rather  than  leaped,  into  them. 

"They — Breen — and — and "  She  tried  to  catch 

her  breath,  but  her  heart  was  throbbing  as  if  ready 

to  burst.  "The  villains "  She  could  say  no 

more,  but  sank  limply  in  a  deathlike  swoon. 

By  this  time  Cole  was  at  hand,  and  also  several 
others.  "Something  wrong?"  queried  the  foreman; 


With  Not  a  Moment  to  Spare       261 

and  then,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  dashed 
off,  to  return  with  a  pail  of  water  and  a  tin  dipper. 
"Here,  use  some  of  this,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  something  is  very  much  wrong,  I  fear," 
answered  Ross,  as  he  bathed  Margaret's  face.  "She 
said  something  about  fearing  she  was  too  late,  and 
Breen,  and  villains;  but  I  couldn't  make  it  out 
exactly." 

"She's  overheard  something,  probably."  Cole 
began  to  use  his  straw  hat  for  a  fan,  while  Ross 
continued  the  bathing. 

Presently  Margaret  gave  a  shudder  and  opened 
her  eyes.  For  an  instant  she  was  bewildered,  then 
her  will-power  reasserted  itself,  and  she  looked  at 
Ross  wildly. 

"Was  I  too  late,  Ross  ?  Have  they  sent  the  dyna- 
mite car  yet  ?  Oh,  the  rascals !  to  plot  such  a  thing !" 

"The  dynamite  car!"  repeated  Ross.  He  looked 
from  Margaret  to  Cole.  "What  do  you  mean?" 

"Oh,  I  haven't  told  you  yet!  They  plotted  to 
send  the  car  along — a  wildcat,  they  called  it.  They 
mean  to  blow " 

"To  send  it  here?" 

"Yes!  yes!"  , 

Ross  was  still  holding  Margaret,  and  the  girl 
showed  every  sign  of  fainting  again.  But  Cole  was 
free  to  act,  and  the  foreman  was  running  up  the 


262      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

temporary  track  in  the  direction  of  Durham.  Ross 
gazed  after  him,  and  then  along  the  rails,  and  saw 
a  sight  that  made  his  heart  suddenly  grow  sick. 

The  wild-cat  car  with  the  dynamite  was  rushing 
along,  down  the  grade  with  lightning-like  swiftness. 
He  caught  only  a  glimpse  of  it  as  it  flashed  around 
a  bend,  then  some  timber  hid  it  from  view.  But 
he  knew  it  would  reappear  in  a  second  more,  and 
then  come  straight  for  those  flat  cars  standing  not 
twenty-five  feet  away! 

"Turn  the  switch!"  he  yelled  hoarsely  to  Cole. 
"Turn  the  switch !"  And  then,  with  Margaret  still 
in  his  arms,  leaped  farther  away  from  the  spot  of 
dire  danger. 

Cole  was  already  at  the  switch  and  fumbling  in 
his  pocket  for  a  key.  As  he  placed  the  key  in  the 
lock  the  wild-cat  car  hove  once  more  into  sight. 
Ross  held  his  breath  as  he  saw  the  foreman  bend 
forward  and  then  pull  back.  Was  the  switch 
turned  ? 

The  car  came  forward  with  a  rush  and  a  strange 
grinding  of  the  wheels.  It  shot  over  the  switch  like 
a  flash,  and  turned  from  the  rocky  cliff  to  the  short 
side  track.  Then  it  left  the  end  of  that  track  and 
plunged  down  into  the  water  and  mud  of  the  creek. 
One  end  struck  a  flat  rock,  and  an  instant  later  a 
mighty  roar  rent  the  air;  and  the  danger  was  a 
thing  of  the  past. 


"Turn    the    switch !"    he   yelled    hoarsely    to    Cole. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

AFTERWARDS 

IT  was  fully  a  minute  before  Ross  felt  like  speak- 
ing. He  looked  keenly  at  the  girl  who  had  saved 
him  from  death.  He  held  her  close,  and  felt  her 
tremble  and  draw  closer  still. 

"Margy!"  he  murmured,  and  that  single  word 
conveyed  a  wealth  of  meaning. 

"Ross!" 

"And  you  did  this  for  my  sake!" 

"Yes,"  she  whispered,  and  looked  him  straight 
in  the  eyes.  "For  your  sake  alone!" 

Cole  was  now  coming  up,  white  and  somewhat 
shaky,  but  filled  with  a  desire  to  bring  somebody  to 
justice.  From  Margaret's  lips  all  present  heard  the 
story  of  the  villainy  that  had  been  hatched  out  on 
the  shore  of  Cedar  Lake. 

"They  must  be  somewhere  around  Durham," 
said  Cole.  "I'll  go  up  on  the  hand  car  and  find  out. 
If  I  find  them— 

"Have  them  arrested,"  put  in  Ross,  quickly. 
"No,  don't  try  to  do  them  violence,"  he  added,  as 
he  saw  Cole's  face  grow  black.  "Let  the  law  take 
its  course.  I'd  go  with  you,  only " 

"Never  mind;  you  take  care  of  Miss  Poole," 
263 


264      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

said  Cole;  and  in  a  minute  more  he  and  three 
of  the  workmen  were  on  the  hand  car,  bound  for 
Durham.  The  other  men  also  quit,  loud  in  their 
denunciation  of  the  enemy,  and  saying  they  would 
join  in  a  hunt  for  the  rascals. 

It  was  fully  two  hours  later  before  Ross  was 
able  to  leave  Margaret  at  her  home  while  on  his 
journey  to  Durham  proper.  The  couple  made  the 
journey  in  his  runabout,  which  was  now  repaired. 

"Oh,  Margy,  Margy !  to  think  you  saved  my  life !" 
he  cried,  after  they  had  been  talking  the  thrilling 
event  over. 

"Oh,  you  really  mustn't  take  it  so  seriously, 
Ross,"  she  returned,  with  her  eyes  beaming  on  him. 

With  one  hand  guiding  the  car,  he  drew  her  over 
to  him. 

"But  I  am  going  to  take  it  seriously,"  he  de- 
clared. He  caught  her  around  the  shoulder.  "You 
must  know  why?" 

To  this  she  did  not  reply,  but  lowered  her  eyes. 

"Tell  me,  Margy,"  he  almost  whispered.  "Have 
I  made  good  with  you?" 

Her  reply  was  faint,  but  quite  distinct. 

"Yes,  Ross." 

There  was  a  slight  pause,  which  meant  a  great 
deal  to  both  of  them. 

"Of  course,   I   might   give   up   this  contracting 


Afterwards  265 

business  if  you  really  wish  me  to,"  he  ventured, 
slowly.  Just  then  he  was  willing  to  do  anything  in 
the  world  for  her. 

She  looked  up  quickly. 

"The  idea,  Ross  Goodwin!  You'll  do  nothing 
of  the  kind !  You'll  keep  right  on  and  make  a  big 
man  of  yourself — and  I'll  be  proud  of  you." 

"But  if  you  are  going  to  be  a  grand  opera 
singer " 

"Who  said  I  was?  Of  course,  I  love  to  sing  in 
public,  but  not  as  a  professional.  I'll  sing  for 
charity,  and  maybe  in  church,  and  that's  all." 

"But  Doctor  Parmalee  might  like  to  see  you  a 
grand  opera  singer." 

"Now,  Ross,  please  don't  drag  Doctor  Parmalee 
into  this,"  and  her  eyes  showed  her  protest. 

"But  he's  your  friend,"  he  insisted. 

"Yes — a  friend,  and  that's  all."  She  looked  him 
squarely  in  the  eyes.  "Ross,  you  mustn't  be  jealous. 
You're  too — too  big  for  that." 

"Well,  Margy,  just  as  you  say.  It's  up  to  you." 
The  recollection  of  having  seen  Doctor  Parmalee  in 
her  company  so  many  times  was  not  a  happy  one. 

"Is  it?"  Margaret  had  snuggled  closer.  But 
suddenly  she  straightened  up. 

"Now  what?"  he  demanded,  with  a  lover's  quick 
intuition,  scenting  trouble. 


266      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

"I  was  just  thinking  that  maybe  you  prefer 
trained  nurses " 

"Bosh!  Now  who's  jealous?  Margy,  there  is 
only  one  girl  in  the  world  for  me — only  one,  and 
that's  you.  I've  loved  you — oh,  ever  so  long,  and 
you  know  it.  Don't  you,  dearest?"  He  ran  the 
car  to  the  side  of  the  roadway  and  halted.  "Say 
you  knew  I  loved  you,"  he  pleaded. 

She  came  closer  then,  and  let  him  hold  her  tight. 

"Yes,"  she  whispered. 

"And  you  loved  me,  didn't  you?"  he  went  on, 
trying  to  make  her  look  at  him. 

"You  knew  I  did,  you  mean  thing!"  she  an- 
swered, and  buried  her  face  in  his  shoulder. 

When  Ross  reached  the  city  proper  he  found 
that  O'Mara  had  been  captured,  and  that  Sam  Flood 
had  also  been  placed  under  arrest.  Breen  and 
Shacker  had  fled,  and  a  large  posse  was  out  search- 
ing for  them.  With  the  posse  went  the  sheriff  and 
nearly  all  of  the  laborers  whose  lives  had  been 
placed  in  peril. 

"It  will  go  hard  with  Breen  and  Shacker  if  those 
Italians  locate  them,"  said  more  than  one.  And 
there  was  a  good  reason  for  this  conclusion;  for, 
two  days  later,  Breen  was  found  in  the  mountains, 
with  his  skull  crushed  in  by  rocks  that  had  been 


Afterwards  267 

thrown  at  him.  Of  course,  nobody  had  done  the 
deed,  and  the  sheriff  deemed  it  wise  not  to  probe 
into  the  matter  too  deeply,  and  the  coroner  did 
likewise.  Shacker  escaped  and  fled  to  the  South- 
west, and  what  became  of  him  nobody  ever  learned. 

When  O'Mara  was  brought  to  trial  a  surprise 
awaited  him.  He  was  charged  with  the  assault  on 
Ross  at  the  cliff  during  the  storm,  and  Detective 
Vance  came  forward  to  prove  that  he  had  done  the 
deed  and  also  committed  the  robbery.  Through  the 
detective,  Ross  recovered  his  watch  and  his  dia- 
mond scarf-pin,  and  also  a  portion  of  the  money.  For 
his  various  misdeeds  O'Mara  was  sent  to  prison  for 
ten  years;  and  society  was  well  rid  of  him.  Sam 
Flood  was  found  not  guilty  of  helping  the  rascals, 
and  was  let  go.  But  he  was  unpopular  with  the  rail- 
road, and  soon  after  lost  his  position  and  drifted 
elsewhere. 

The  railroad  contract  went  through  with  a  rush 
after  the  excitement  was  over.  When  the  general 
public  learned  how  Ross  had  been  fighting  his  rivals 
from  the  very  start,  many  came  forward  to  offer 
their  sympathy  and  assistance. 

"I  thank  you  for  your  kindly  interest,  but  I  need 
no  help,"  he  said  to  one  and  all.  "Cole  is  my  right- 
hand  man,  and  we'll  get  along  first-rate,  if  only  left 
alone."  And  get  along  they  did,  and  the  contract 


268      Making  Good  With  Margaret 

was  finished  a  week  before  schedule  time  and  at 
a  net  profit  to  the  young  contractor  of  twelve  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  dollars. 

"And  that  means  the  big  contract  next  year, 
doesn't  it,  Ross?"  asked  Margaret,  when  he  called 
and  told  her  that  the  work  was  at  an  end. 

"It  does  if  you  say  so,  Margy,"  he  answered, 
with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"To  be  sure  I  say  so— if  you  want  it,"  she  re- 
turned, promptly. 

"Well,  I  don't  think  I  can  do  that  work  properly 
unless  I  have  a  wife  to  assist  me,"  he  continued, 
softly. 

"Really?"  she  murmured,  and  cast  down  her  eyes. 
"Well,  if  that's  all " 

THE   END 


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